


Truer Than Mythology

by nightmare_kisser



Category: Oncelers, The Lorax (2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Centaurs, M/M, deertaurs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-03
Updated: 2013-01-03
Packaged: 2017-11-23 11:21:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 21,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/621571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightmare_kisser/pseuds/nightmare_kisser
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Theo and Paint-ler, two 'taurs, brothers in bond and not in blood, find themselves facing the biggest threat of their lives; more than bobcats, more than hunters and horse racers: falling in love with a pair of humans.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Truer Than Mythology

**Author's Note:**

> For the mods of Gold-ler/BlackGold, Fake-ler/Teddy Truffulaseed, and Paint-ler/Greenthumb-ler. Because they kept drawing 'taurs, and I got sucked into it. XD

“Come on, come on…” Paint-ler stretches up on his hind legs and kicks idly with his front legs, arms reaching up and up to try and grab the perfectly ripe, red-and-yellow, juicy apple hanging in the tree just overhead. He sticks his tongue out and furrows his brows in concentration, inching closer to the tree, front legs balancing on the tree trunk as he shifts on his back legs, one hand grabbing the branch and yanking it down, the other finally grabbing the apple. “Haha, yes! Success!”

 

He wobbles on his feet and stumbles backward, losing balance after letting go of the tree branch and taking the apple down with him.

 

“Whoa… whoa!”

 

Paint flails his arms in vain, and all too soon, he’s landing awkwardly and painfully onto one flank, rolling a bit on the ground and stumbling over himself, trying to sit upright.

 

However, when he stands and shifts to one side, raising his apple to his lips and about to trot off, he steps on something and hears a sickening click before a snap, and suddenly, he’s brought down to his knees again and wailing in the most agonizing pain of his life.

 

“Aah!” he screams, apple falling with a half-bite taken out of it, rolling away from him as he pants and starts to sweat from the pain, hands clenching into the ground.

 

Eyes filled with tears, Paint glances down at his left back leg and whimpers; his hoof is caught in a trap with metal jaws, and immediately, he starts to cry out.

 

“Th-Theo! Green! Somebody, please! Help me!” he yells into the forest, but to no avail. He whimpers and hides his face in his hands, careful not to twitch and disturb his ankle in the trap, and his tail flicks about him in distress. “Theo… Theo, please…” he blubbers into the air, “Green, anybody… Help… It hurts…”

 

Paint-ler is reduced to sobs, not strong enough to pry open the jaws of the trap (he tries a few times, but it only wears him out quicker and hurts more, seemingly digging deeper into his flesh, blood dripping down into the soil and fallen leaves), and not loud enough to be heard through his clenched teeth.

 

Then, there’s a crackle of a twig, the shuffling of jogging feet.

 

…Feet, not hooves. Not the clop-clop of his hoofed companions, but the shuffle-step of human boots.

 

Paint has always been curios about humans, treading too close to their lands and homes and orchards. He’s in one now, at the end of it, at the base of the three budding into his forest’s territory. He thought he would be safe here, at this tree, separate from the others. But he was wrong. And now, he’s caught.

 

Paint gasps and lowers his head, hiding behind his arms as the human nears him. He shudders and whips his tail about, frantic and unsure of himself, his centaur body quaking where he sits on the ground, unable to move out of the bear trap.

 

“Shh; there, there, you beautiful, unique creature… I won’t hurt you,” the human says as soon as he sees Paint, startled and impressed and coming far too close, and Paint’s heart thudding at dangerous levels. He pants anxiously and peeks out between his fingers.

 

He’s shocked to find that the man approaching him is devilishly handsome; his hair is dark and lustrous, parted in the center, and his eyes contrast beautifully, as they are a bright golden hue, soft and not overwhelming on his face. Paint calms somewhat, lowering his arms, and the human smiles at him, one canine tooth replaced with a golden one, and it twinkles in the sunlight through the leaves at Paint-ler.

 

“Hello there,” the human greets warmly, stepping cautiously closer, bending on his knees to be slightly more eyelevel with the centaur. “My, look at you… I didn’t think your kind still existed. I’ve been looking everywhere for you. It’s just a shame you got caught in one of my traps.”

 

“Wh-who are you…?” Paint murmurs, wiping tears from his eyes and staring at the man’s face, searching for answers and honesty, if it is indeed there.

 

“My name is Gold-ler. I own a ranch with my brother just past the orchard,” he explains calmly, politely, and moves to sit on the ground in front of Paint. “I’m a hunter, admittedly, but you’ll find that I have no intention to harm you. In fact, I would like to get you out of that trap, and patch you up at my home, maybe get to know you a little. Would that be all right with you?”

 

Paint shakes his head. “Much as I would like to get out of this trap… I don’t know you! And my brothers say that humans are dangerous. You… they behead and stuff our kind as trophies, since we’re mere myths to man nowadays. I… I’m sorry, but… I can’t trust you.”

 

“I understand,” Gold-ler replies swiftly, easily. “I would feel the same way, if I were you. But I assure you, I only want to help. My traps weren’t meant for you, so I would like to make it up to you by helping you heal.”

 

“I-I don’t… think…” Paint murmurs, and blood is starting to rise to his cheeks, and he blames it on the way the man is eyeing him, marveling at his body, and Paint wishes, for once, that he wore clothes, if only to hide himself. He swallows and looks down at his hands. His leg is making his head fuzzy with pain. “I-I have my brothers to help me, you know… They’ll find me, and free me. Th-they’re very strong.”

 

“Your brothers, hmm? Tell me, what do they look like, little deer?” he asks, glancing over Paint’s centaur half. It isn’t a horse like Gold thought it would be; but that’s good. That’s closer to what he’s looking for…

 

“They’re bigger than me, a-and a lot stronger! Theo is a stallion, and Green is a white stag. Green is only half my blood, and Theo is merely a friend I met when we were both small, but they are my _brothers_ and they will defend me against t-tricky humans like you!” he exclaims, jumpy with nerves.

 

Gold looks at him carefully, not fully listening. “A white stag, you say…” he murmurs, and then, he’s flashing a grin. “Tricky? I’m not tricky… Do I look that way to you?” Gold replies, sincere hurt flickering across his face.

 

“Well… Your face _is_ kind, and… you have a nice voice… I want to believe you, I do… but you just want me as a pet, don’t you? You want to take me home and keep me all to yourself, imprison me. I-I know how your kind works! You only –”

 

He’s cut off, suddenly, by the trampling of hooves, loud and beating down on the ground. Within seconds, a visual comes into the small clearing: it’s a messy, spiky-haired centaur with brown hair and eyes and coat, storming in and whinnying loudly, snarling and coming between Gold and Paint.

 

“Who are you, Human? And what have you done to my brother?!” the beast growls, getting low to the ground and baring his teeth at the human.

 

Gold raises his hands in surrender and has a terrified expression in his eyes. “Why, nothing! This poor boy accidentally fell into one of my traps meant for a completely different audience, and I heard his cries and came to free him. Calm yourself, young stallion.”

 

“You back the fuck off, Human. You probably set those traps on purpose for our kind, because you’re one of the hunters who heard rumors about us living in these woods, and are trying to track us. I know how your kind plays things! So you better get up and leave, _now,_ because I trample you,” the brunet, Theo, replies harshly, his hands clenched into fists.

 

Gold takes one final glance at Paint’s freckled face and baby blue eyes and then looks to Theo and nods firmly. “All right, all right. I’m leaving. Here,” he tosses the keys to unlock the trap to the pair. “To show that I mean well. Free your brother, heal him up. But I can’t promise you won’t see me again soon; I live nearby, after all.” And with that, Gold turns and heads back the way he came.

 

Theo immediately softens when the human is out of sight, and he turns and kneels before Paint, worry written across his features. “Paint! How badly does it hurt? It’s okay, I got it, I’m going to get you out…” and he unlocks the trap, easing Paint’s broken ankle out. “We need to set that, or it won’t mend right. God, how could I be so foolish to let you wander off on your own? You are always getting into trouble!”

 

“I-I’m sorry, Theodore…” Paint murmurs, sniffling.

 

Theo sighs and brings Paint-ler into his arms, cooing softly and petting his hair. “It’s fine. You didn’t know there were traps around here. Looks like you just wanted to get an apple, huh?”

 

“I feel so silly,” Paint mumbles, “I’m older than you, but… you are always the one taking care of me…”

 

“One year isn’t too much older,” Theo muses with a slight smile. He pulls out of the embrace and gets to his feet, grasping Paint’s arms and hauling him up, letting Paint hold onto his back for balance as he hobbles on three legs. “And, hey… what did that guy say to you?”

 

“…He wanted to take me home with him, to patch me up,” Paint replies quietly.

 

“What!” Theo stops dead, and Paint lurches forward, caught only by Theo’s arms already around his torso. “It’s a good thing I showed up, then! He would have captured you and locked you up like a show-pony, or _worse_!”

 

“I know, I know…” Paint sighs, “Although, you know… he seemed different than most humans. He was polite and honest, and –”

 

“No, Paint,” Theo replies sharply, “No. That guy wasn’t being – No, just no,” he states flatly. “Now, come on… let’s see if Greenthumb can’t use a little magic to help fix you up faster.”

 

\--

 

“Black, I found them. I actually _saw_ them today. One was caught in my trap by the old apple tree on the edge of the orchard, and the other came to his rescue. They aren’t like anything I would have expected; they are _intelligent,_ Black. Like a _human_ ,” Gold informs his twin when he returns home later that evening. He shakes his head. “And the one I nearly brought home, had his ‘brother’ not interfered… he was… oddly attractive.”

 

“Whoa, there, Goldilocks. Backtrack for a moment, would ya?” Black scoffs. “You found the centaurs today, after all this time?! And, what, you think one of them is _hot_? That is _disgusting,_ and absurd! They are just dumb, albeit mythical animals, like anything else. This hunting game has fucked with your head.”

 

“It has not!” Gold retorts a tad childishly. He sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. “I wish I were exaggerating, but I’m not. They were as intelligent as any human their age, and they are attractive creatures, yes. And there are three of them. I saw two for myself, and the one I had in my trap mentioned a third. A _white stag_.”

 

“White st…” and BlackGold drifts off, dark eyes panning over to look at his brother more closely. “You can’t be serious. You mean these two know where the one centaur you’ve been looking for – for nearly _your entire life_ –is hiding?”

 

“Yes. And apparently, we were correct about discerning which forest he resides in. I just need to lure them closer again, get them to trust me, or at least the deertaur, and have him lead me to the stag. Then, perhaps, we can finally make our wishes and change our lives, Black.”

 

Black’s grin is sharp and wicked. “About time we switched things up! I have a race tomorrow, but it’s the last of the season, so I’ll help you track these buggers down afterward.”

 

\--

 

Paint might be too curious for his own good.

 

He peers out from behind a tree, wounded leg healing nicely with the aid of magic, merely a scar and a little weaker than the rest, now, but no longer painful or unsafe to run on. So he can bolt at any minute, if need be, but as it stands, Paint-ler is keen on watching from the safe line of the trees.

 

He found the golden-eyed human’s whereabouts. It’s a ranch with a pasture, horses grazing within a fenced-in area, and clearly captive and dumbed down and used to be ridden and prized.

 

It makes the deertaur’s blood boil a little, but not nearly as much if Theo could see this. He shivers at the thought; Theo would be livid. He’d storm in there and set all those horses free. It’s a good thing he doesn’t know about this.

 

Paint sighs and walks around a couple trees, careful not to get too close to the edge, careful not to be in the thinner line of trees leading into the clearing. But… he needs to get closer, needs to see what goes on in the human household, if he can. He needs to see because he needs to know… Well, a multitude of things, but namely if this man – _Gold_ – if his word can be trusted.

 

He can’t be seen peering into the world of the human domain, but the little cabin seems non-threatening, and Paint genuinely believes that he will be safe as long as he doesn’t get caught by anyone. It was hard enough, sneaking away from Theo and finding his way here, stalking the vague trail the hunter left behind. (Well, he uses the term ‘stalking’ mildly. More like ‘tracking.’ He’s a prey, not a predator.)

 

Paint nibbles his bottom lip anxiously and grips the trunk of a tree, watching as Gold exits the house and is accompanied by a man who looks very similar to him, but the man has dark black gloves and a sharper smirk, and is dressed to go riding.

 

He takes one of the horses and saddles it after brushing it down, and after a quick glimpse, paint finds that the horse is a gentle-matured mare, obedient and calm under the black-gloved man’s hands.

 

He creeps a bit closer, traipsing down the line of trees to get closer, within earshot, his pointed ears perking up.

 

“Black, I thought you were going to help me out with this?” Gold scolds, arms crossed and one foot tapping the dirt path, his eyes following his companion putting his horse into a trot his way.

 

“Chill out, _Big Brother_ ,” the other snorts, rolling his eyes sarcastically and turning the horse with a light tap to one side of its body, and a guide with the reins. “I will. But Flora here’s been real cooped up lately, so I thought I would take her out for a while, for a good run through the orchards, treat her to a couple apples. She deserves it, after all. She’s the most loyal to us, and she loves us best.”

 

“Yes, I can’t argue with that,” Gold sighs, smiling gently, and his smile makes Paint’s heart skip a beat, and he doesn’t know why. It looks so… welcoming when he smiles like that, arms dropping to rest casually at his sides, face relaxing. “Very well. Just make sure you brush her afterward, too. She should be pampered every now and then, because she really is the best of them.”

 

“My point exactly,” Black, was it? Waves his sibling off. “In the meantime, you get the stuff ready. We’ll go hunting tomorrow, okay?”

 

“Yes, yes. Fine,” Gold-ler shrugs it off, turning. He glances at the trees for a moment, and Paint stiffens. He isn’t visible, is he? No, no… he can’t be. And he’s been to quiet to be noticed whatsoever.

 

Gold looks the other way, then turns and walks back toward the cabin. He doesn’t see Paint-ler, and for that, the deertaur sighs with relief.

 

He hears Black and Flora gallop off in the opposite direction, into the orchard, and when the cabin is quiet again and nothing can be seen through the windows due to the bright light of day, Paint turns and heads in the other direction, back toward his own home.

 

\--

 

Theo and Paint share a little cave under a large hill beside a small, trickling waterfall leading into a brook. It has the best berries and trees and fish and water, and it’s perfect for their lifestyle. It’s a safe haven. It’s been their home ever since they discovered it together years ago, as wandering young ‘taurs. They sought shelter in it while Theo healed from a bobcat scratch wound on his back, and they have been there ever since.

 

Green lives across the brook and into a different clearing, one polar opposite the direction of the cabin from their cave. Green fashioned a little hut for himself, made from mossy rocks, a long-grass, sod, and mud roof, and wooden frames for the door and windows, although the door itself is a line of thick ivy meant to be parted and walked through. He sleeps in a pile of long grass dried into straw, and covered with the wool of some wild sheep he is acquainted with.

 

Paint goes to see Green now, before making the trek back home. He needs to ask something potentially dangerous, but necessary.

 

“…You want to know _what_.” Green asks, deadpan, quirking a brow and lazily lifting his head from his arms, yawning. He was just about to settle down for a nap before his half-brother showed up.

 

The stag stumbles, rising, and stretches out his limbs. Paint blushes and plays with his fingers, cleaning the dirt and berry-made paint pigments from under his nails. “I, um… I want to know if… if it’s bad to watch humans sometimes? We… look sorta human, half of us anyway, so I wondered are we really that different? And would it hurt if I watched them from afar to find out?”

 

“Are you asking my permission to spy on humans?”

 

“Wh-what? Haha, no, no way… I’m just… asking if it’s wrong, or… whatever,” Paint stutters.

 

Green blows air out of his mouth and rolls his forest-green eyes. He pinches the bridge of his nose and rubs his forehead, then wipes his hand down his freckled face. It’s a trait they inherited from their father, the freckles; and their personalities reflect their separate mothers’. And, it seems, Paint inherited his personality from a woman with too much curiosity about things she shouldn’t stick her nose into.

 

Or, maybe, that’s just Paint-ler and his naïve, kind heart.

 

Green grunts and turns, tail twitching as he stoops to pick up something in the corner of his hut. “Let me remind you of something, kiddo,” he tells his younger half-sibling. He turns back around and holds up half of arrow, the sharp, blood-rusted tip still attached, and then holds up bullet casings. “See this? I dug this arrow from my flank three years ago. And these? These are the metal shells of bullets that nearly grazed me a few times. I kept both because I never want to forget how dangerous humans are. They see things like us and immediately associate us with myth and legend, with prizes and fame to be had for our capture and death, and it’s all because humans are selfish and greedy and cold-hearted. Do you understand?”

 

“B-but, Green –”

 

“God, I need to get Theo to keep a better eye on you. You’ve already gone to see the humans who put you in a bear trap, haven’t you? What’s up with that? That’s sick, man.”

 

“N-no, Green, I… I haven’t, haha… and, since when are you so uptight? There was a time when you didn’t care about anything, not even me.”

 

“Look, Painty. You’re my brother and I hate/love you, which means I kind of need to make sure you don’t die, or worse, get turned into a stupid freaking pet. And if I have to quit being lazy and remember my older-brother duties and be strict with you, then I will. And I’ll sick Theo on you like a bloodhound, you hear? So stop while you’re ahead, kiddo.”

 

Paint sighs. “…You’re right.” Although he has no intentions of actually ceasing and desisting. He likes visiting the cabin too much; he’s done it nine times in the past month already. “I’ll stop.”

 

“Good. Thank you. Now, run along; Theo probably has dinner waiting for your sorry ass.”

 

Paint snorts, smiling minutely, and turns to leave. “Love you, too, Green,” he mutters dryly, and then he’s gallivanting off into the woods, taking the long way home to enjoy the sights and pick up a few more painting supplies to decorate more of the inner walls of his and Theo’s cave.

 

\--

 

Most of the time, while Paint observes the twin humans carry out their everyday lives, he notices that they often leave their cabin for their respective duties; he discovers that Black, the slightly younger brother with the dark eyes, partakes in horse racing, a sport of some sort, one where bets are involved, from what Paint has gathered. It seems pretty straightforward: people ride their horses and see which one can go the fastest on a destined track. He picks this up from tidbits of conversation, and it’s fascinating.

 

Gold, meanwhile, has a sport of his own; he hunts. He kills game in the woods – mainly rabbits and deer – and sells it locally. The meat, the furs, the antlers on wooden plaques, and so on. It’s disgusting to see him load his motorized vehicle with his goods and take it places, and once he caught Gold skinning a rabbit, and it made Paint so sick to his stomach that he had to purge it behind a bush, but… he understands. It’s necessary, isn’t it? Humans are omnivores, so they eat meat as well as vegetables, and sometimes that meat is a rabbit… or one half of his own kind, deer… and it’s necessary.

 

Apparently, they are their only family nearby. Whenever they mention their other brothers or mother, it’s said with scowls on their faces of hurt and disgust, and it isn’t brought up for very long. Their brothers are lumberjacks – which, Paint has learned from the implications of the context that those are humans who chop down trees, and are generally very big and strong – and they are runts of the litter, in so many words; unable to do the same brunt of the work, and therefore, chose different career paths.

 

Paint-ler can understand that best of all; compared to Green, he is quite small, and he lacks the same impressive talents in his minute horns to do magic. That’s all Green’s thing. All he can do himself is… well, make art. Chains of flowers, wreaths of wood, drawings on cave walls. He doesn’t know a lick about magic, and leaves it to Green instead. And he’s dwarfed by Theo entirely, but then, Theo is a centaur. He’s bound to be broader, taller, so Paint doesn’t mind that as much.

 

Still, he can see the frustration being smaller and weaker leaves in the two human brothers. And they seek something, something that apparently will change that, but from their conversation, they have yet to delve into what it is that can change their lives.

 

It must be something very important, because they are gearing up for weekly hunts to find it, whatever it is.

 

\--

 

The little deertaur smiles to himself and skips to his hiding place, snacking on an apple he stole from the orchards on his detour along the way. He gazes out from around his regular tree and is prepared to watch through the illuminated window of the cabin in the dimness of the night, because he has guiltily taken to watching Gold go through his routine for sleep.

 

He’s fascinated by human anatomy. Their upper halves, from their navel to their heads, is exactly the same as any ‘taurs, and yet… their legs. So odd. And He never sees Gold without the undergarment over his private parts, but he isn’t sure he wants to. He’s a little intimidated by what he might find, because humans are so bizarre, because they are oddly similar and yet vastly different.

 

However, on this night, Gold isn’t in his room. The light is on, but the man is missing. He could be in another part of the house, but Paint isn’t sure. It’s… awfully quiet. Usually he can hear things softly going on in the background, occurring in some part of the house, but not tonight.

 

That’s when he hears the crack of a twig underfoot.

 

Paint goes rigid and his head jerks toward the noise, ears straining to hear, body on high alert.

 

There, the rustle of leaves. He half-turns, quickly, aiming to dash off if he must, when he’s caught in the gaze of a familiar pair of golden eyes, and suddenly, with the moonlight trickling down through the leaves of the trees, Paint is standing mere feet from the object of his curiosity, and he swallows dryly as the man takes a cautionary step closer.

 

“I thought it was you. I saw you a few times, moving in the line of trees on the edge of my property, but I wasn’t sure if I was imagining things or not. But you’re really here. Have you been watching me?” he asks, and his tone is so very calm and gentle, his voice velvety and warm, and Paint relaxes more than he should under the sound.

 

“Y-yes. I’m sorry. I just… wanted to know…” but he drifts off, because there isn’t anything specific he’s been looking for nor learning these past couple months. His visits have become daily, and he’s done so many here that he thought he could go on doing it forever without getting caught. But he’s in deep shit now, and he’s shaking minutely under the stress of it, his heart thumping wildly in his chest.

 

“It’s all right. You were curious about us, weren’t you? Well, I’m curious about you, too. We’re strange to one another, because we share many things in common, and yet live in two separate worlds. I don’t blame you. It’s very much like the tale of the Little Mermaid.”

 

“The what?” Paint frowns, and Gold chuckles softly.

 

“Never mind. What I think is, we should go up to the house and chat for a while, get to know one another. No tricks; I don’t want to hurt you in the least. I just want to talk to you, ask you a few things, and you can do the same for me. Does that sound fair?”

 

Gold looks so earnest and sweet, reaching out a hand and stepping slowly closer, giving Paint time to run if he so chooses. But Paint can’t find it in him to. He plays with his fingers and his ears droop, and he glances down at Gold’s outstretched hand as it comes close though to touch.

 

He’s goading Paint like he would while approaching a stirred horse; hand out to touch its muzzle, stroke its nose, grab its reins and sooth it. Paint should be offended – he is no horse, not in the least, thank you – but he wants that, to talk and ask questions and get answers. He’s been aching for contact with the humans outside of their initial meeting, but he’s been too afraid of arrows and bullets and the stables they have beside their cabin to go for it.

 

But… none of that will happen, right? Gold appears so genuine about not harming him, and as Paint reaches out timidly and takes Gold’s warm hand into both of his cooler ones, he can’t see a downside to merely having a miniscule _chat_ with the hunter.

 

\--

 

“Dammit, Paint, where are you always sneaking off to?” Theo grumbles under his breath to himself as he blocks branches with his forearms and shoves brushes to the side, roaming closer and closer to the edge of the woods as he follows Paint’s familiar tracks in the soft, dewy ground.

 

The summer moon hangs in the sky, giving him clear sight, but something feels off. It’s too quiet, and it’s unsettling. Theo always worries about Paint-ler – it’s become second nature to fret over the young deertaur – but he’s been far more distressed than usual, with the increased amount of time Paint’s been away during the day, and slipping away during the nights.

 

Gritting his teeth and huffing under his breath, Theo stumbles into the thinning line of trees around the clearing where the humans dwell.

 

“ _This_ is where he’s been going?!” Theo whinnies angrily, stomping his front legs. He clicks his tongue in annoyance and paces back and forth behind the foremost line of trees around the edges of the pasture, and folds his arms tightly over his chest. “Fuck. Fuck. _Shit._ Where _is_ he? Did he get himself caught?”

 

Feeling a bit rash, Theo breaks the line of trees and decides to swoop in and be the hero once more, but the second he comes out into the clearing, he hears horses.

 

Horses. His kin, in a matter of speaking. More his kin than humans, anyhow, and he feels a flare of rage when he races toward the sound and discovers that they are all locked up in a wooden cage, forced into cubicles. There are five of them in total, four stallions and a mare, kept separate, and in a bout of injustice, Theo bucks hard and breaks the wooden doors of the stable and uses his hands to lift all the gates and tear away all the saddles and reins keeping the horses as pets.

 

“Be free, my brothers!” Theo calls out to them in their language, and they nod in thanks and bolt from the stables, galloping free into the night, out of sight past the trees, only the distant sound of hooves off the beaten path being heard.

 

But one horse didn’t leave, despite the fact that her gate is wide open, and she isn’t wounded or pregnant or hindered in any way. She’s merely lying there in her cell, head lifted and watching, but otherwise not making a move to leave.

 

Theo frowns and turns toward her, and she’s startled and shifts back. “What are you?” she asks him in her language, and he blinks, frowns.

 

“I’m a centaur. But I’m mostly horse, like you. Don’t be afraid. And please, be free; don’t let these humans trap you here any longer,” he tells the mare softly, speaking to her as he takes a small step forward.

 

Her eyes scan his frame and she shakes her head. “No,” she whinnies lowly, getting to her feet, “They don’t trap me. They have been very good to me, ever since I was small. They raised me, taught me everything I know, from learning to walk to jumping a fallen log in my way. They feed me treats and hold me when I am scared of the thunder, and keep me warm in the winter and love me. They nursed me with a bottle when I was small because my mother died after giving birth to me. They have been my family for years. I will not abandon them.”

 

“…You can’t be serious,” Theo snorts loudly, “That’s absurd! Humans can’t love animals, they only are out to control them! They are using you, and you can’t even see it.”

 

“I let them ride me because, sometimes, it’s the only way I can give back for all that they do for me. And, sometimes, they just want to feel the same freedoms we have as horses, being strong and fast as we are. Humans are small and frail, and can be hurt easily. I need to protect them, and share with them what they can’t have,” the mare responds determinedly.

 

He reels back in disbelief. “ _What!_ They’re just humans! How can you say –”

 

“Well, well, well; look what we have here,” comes a smug voice, and Theo whips his head around, half-turning his body to face the shadowed figure in the doorway of the stables. His face falls, stomach churning sickly, when he realizes it’s one of the humans. Not the one he met, either; a different one, a handsomer one, but someone with a roughness in his voice that sends chills down Theo’s spine.

 

The mare seems overjoyed to see him. She comes up to him and necks his shoulder, and he pets her head and chuckles, and the pair of them block the only exit, the windows too high and small for Theo to leap through.

 

“So the others fled the first chance they got, huh? Well, good riddance to bad rubbish and all that. But I knew you’d stay with me, ol’ girl. Yes, there’s a good girl,” and he strokes her side and hushes her until she goes still. “You’re too smart to listen to this mythical beast, aren’t cha, Flora?”

 

She whinnies in agreement and nips at his clothes fondly, and the man chuckles again, patting her one more time before stepping out of the embrace and walking around her to confront the intruder.

 

Theo’s heart beats wildly in his chest, and his breathing picks up a tad. He swallows hard and blinks, shifting his facial expression from shock to glare at the man. He hooves the ground with one front legs and leans back, ready to buck or charge.

 

“Easy there, stallion, easy,” the man grins wickedly. “You’re here for your little deer friend, aren’t you? He’s in the three-seasons room of the cabin, sitting down with my brother and bonding, safe and sound. I swear,” he says, but Theo doesn’t trust him. He can’t trust the man’s sly face, the twinkle in his oil-black eyes. “You can join them, if you like. But there’s no way you’re getting off this property. You’re ours now.”

 

“Like hell I am!” Theo snarls, “I’m not letting you snare me into a trap like you did to my brother!” He dives forward, aiming to strike, when the mare, Flora, cuts out in front of the man and rears back onto her hind legs, fronts kicking and stomping down in front of her, and she tosses her wild mane and whinnies furiously.

 

In horse-speak, she tells Theo darkly, “Don’t you dare! He’s _my_ human and I love him, and if you harm him, so help me, I’ll kill you.”

 

“So be it,” Theo counters, nearly growling, and he makes a scoffing sound. “I won’t hurt a mare. And if you stand between him and me, then I won’t fight. But I will fight as soon as I’m alone. I will get free again,” he tells her.

 

“…Whoa, amazin’,” says the human from behind his horse, hand on her flank as he peers around her at the centaur. “You can talk to her, can’t you? In so many horse-sounds. You truly are a wonder. It’s gonna be a lot of fun, breaking you. Only did it a once, with one of those horses you freed. Two of ‘em I bought, but one of them was wild and I broke him myself. I’ll do the same to you, and I’ll be the first man to ride a centaur.”

 

Theo lets out a roar of fury, but Flora head-butts him, and he falls to the stable floor, unconscious.

 

\--

 

“…What’s all that noise?” Paint-ler’s ears prick up and he turns his head toward it, a frown settling over his brows. He glances back at Gold, and sets down the teacup in his hand (it took some getting used to, holding a cup and drinking warm, flavored water from it, but he really enjoys it, especially when sugar is added, making it sweet like a berry, but without the tartness to follow). “It sounds like… horses? Are your horses all right?”

 

“I’m not sure,” Gold replies, and a storm brews over his own eyebrows. “Wait one moment, won’t you, Paint? I’m going to find my brother.” he coos sweetly, and then he sets down his cup in its saucer and storms out of the three-seasons room, into the warm summer night.

 

The hunter makes his way toward the stables, and finds Black leading Flora, the mare carrying a young stallion in the cart attached behind her. She must have helped Black lift the centaur into it, and now, they’re wheeling him to the pony-march post in the corner of the pasture.

 

“What… how…” Gold tries, but Black cuts him off.

 

“He freed all the males, but Flora here was too loyal to go, and I guess he tried to stay and talk her into it, because otherwise he should have been long gone with the rest. Instead, I found him, and now he’s ours, Goldilocks. It’s perfect! You have the other one, and we can tie them up, build some high fences around the pasture, and keep them! We’ll have two ‘taurs, and they can even lead us to the white stag, willingly or not, and it’s fantastic! Do you know what this means? We’ll be the richest men in the world!”

 

Black’s excited ramble is cut off with a groan from the centaur in his mitts, and he grins and tells Gold that he needs to hurry and tie the beast up before it gets away, and that he should do the same with the deertaur.

 

“But… Paint is just starting to trust me. I can’t soil that now by –”

 

Black pivots and faces the older twin. “Are you fuckin’ kidding me? Would you rather he be free to let this one loose and return with him to the forest? Then we close both of them and this was all for nothin’! It isn’t a coincidence we roped them both at the same time. Clearly, some force out there wanted this to happen. And I think it’s because we’re meant to get our wishes from the stag. So don’t blow this, Gold,” he adds, walking forward and poking violently into his brother’s chest. “And keep your eye on the prize. Don’t get side-tracked just because the deer has a human face that’s easy on the eyes.”

 

Gold snorts. “That’s hardly the case. Unless you’re just saying that because _you_ think the centaur you’re carting off is easy on the eyes?” and he folds his arms over his chest, raising a brow, and in the darkness of the night, he can’t see how Black’s cheeks flare pink.

 

“No!” Black barks too quickly. “Shut up!” and he spins on his heel and stomps off. “Come on, Flora. We need to get him situated before we can go to bed.”

 

The mare follows silently and only the squeak of one of the cart’s wheels paired with the soft chirp of a couple crickets breaks up the monotonous silence of the night.

 

\--

 

Reluctantly, Gold returns to the room he left his mythological guest in and rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. “Sorry about that. My brother… has an unexpected new responsibility on his hands, one I am forced to bear myself. It seems I must tell you the real reason why I invited you: I intend to keep you. I’m sorry, but you’re too special to let go of.”

 

Paint’s blood runs cold, his sinking fears coming to light. He drops the cup and it chips and cracks on the floor, spilling tea onto the rug-covered cement.

 

“You’re… holding me hostage. Theo and Green were right; you… you’re just like all the other humans after all!” and tears start to flow and he doesn’t know why, and he can’t stop them. He wipes them angrily away and starts to panic, legs clumsily shifting until the pain of crunching the fallen cup startles him into numbness.

 

Too weak and confused to fight back, Paint allows Gold to bind his wrists and neck with rope and lead him out back to the same post Theo is slumped against and tied to, and he cries quietly to himself, head hanging low, and submissively kneels on the ground and presses his forehead to the post, arms limp, and he closes his eyes and wonders how he was ever so foolish and trusting enough to land himself in his situation in the first place.

 

\--

 

When Theo wakes sometime in the early morning, he finds Paint asleep beside him, both of them tied to the same post in the outskirts of the pasture, and he snarls under his breath and tugs at the restraints, but they rub on his skin and he’s not going anywhere without harming himself, and he’d rather not, because being wounded doesn’t make for a very clean or easy getaway.

 

Sighing to himself, Theo wait out the sunrise, and sometime after the sun is fully in the sky, he hears movement in the cabin nearby. Shoed feet walking across wooden floorboards, and he stares with dread at the door leading to the back yard, cursing the humans about to greet his vision.

 

Both of the brothers emerge, chatting quietly amongst themselves. Theo closes his eyes and slumps, pretending to sleep, keeping his breathing measured and even. He hears them mutters back and forth with one another, arguing.

 

“I’m not sure I like this, Black. They look miserable.”

 

“They’re asleep right now. They don’t look like anything but asleep, dumbass.”

 

“I mean it! Maybe we should let them go, and hunt for the other in our own way, as we always have…”

 

“Are you fucking kidding me right now? Gold, you know that we need them. They’re the key to finding him, and you know it.”

 

The golden-eyed one sighs heavily, very nearby, and Theo peeks open one eye just enough to spot the two humans leaning against the closest fence.

 

“They just feel so human, Black. And it’s wrong to keep humans captive.”

 

“They aren’t human, though. They’re ‘taurs. Mythical, magical crossbreeds of man and animal. They’re unusual and valuable beyond belief, and you just want to _let them go_? Sorry, _Brother,_ ” he spits sarcastically, the same way Paint and Green often do when they are angry with one another, “But I can’t let you do that. We _need_ them.”

 

Gold nods and runs his hand through his dark hair. “You’re right. I’ll just give it time; maybe they won’t mind it here after a few weeks. We need to be nice to them; treat them more like guests than prisoners. I don’t want them to be prisoners.”

 

Black snorts. “I make no promises. I want that centaur something awful, and that means breaking him like any wild horse, and that means making him ‘prisoner’ for a while, until I can ride him. And that won’t be a cakewalk for either of us, so ‘treating him like a guest’ isn’t really an option, you know.”

 

Gold sighs again and glances the centaur’s way, and Theo quickly closes his eye again and pretend to shift in his sleep. Gold’s gentler tones continue on, “I’m aware. Just talk to him more than try to control him. He might surprise you, and you might surprise me, in the end.”

 

“…We’ll see about that.”

 

And then their footsteps lead them away, off to do other chores around the ranch, and when Theo opens his eyes again, he sees nothing but the line of trees and the cabin and part of the road in his line of sight, the humans long gone.

 

\--

 

It takes them three days to construct their prison.

 

Three days of being held captive to the post. Three days of having food delivered to them by the mare, because Theo aims to kick and lash out at either of the humans that come near him. Three days of Theo snarling and Paint sighing heavily and both of them wondering if Green will come looking for them and if he will ever find them, and if he did, if he would even put up the effort to rescue them, or if he would simply deem it their own faults and leave them be.

 

They are lead into the walled pasture, set loose from their ropes, and Theo goes on a rampage, trying to jump the walls, trying to kick them down, but they are too high and too sturdy for any of it to work, and in the end, Theo gives up with a scream and angry sobs, and Paint wraps his arms around him and comforts him.

 

“I hate it. I hate this so much. Why the fuck did we let this happen? Now that smirky guy and his golden-eyed freak for a brother are gonna turn us into pets and break us and either sell us or exploit us for money in other ways, and there’s nothing we can fucking do about it and I _hate it_!!”

 

“I-it’s not… entirely bad… I mean, they feed us well and Gold doesn’t look at us like we’re animals. He feels bad about it, I think…”

 

“Yeah, maybe, but he still isn’t doing anything to stop it. He doesn’t care about us, Paint. Like his brother, we’re just a means to an end.” He looks away, yanks out of Paint’s grasp. “I heard them talking. You were asleep. They’re looking for someone, and Black said that we’re the key. Now, who do we know in the whole world, Paint?”

 

“…Um, not really anybody. Only Gre– …Oh, _no,_ ” Paint gasps, and then buries his face in his hands. “No, no, no! How could I be so stupid? I brought Greenthumb up once or twice, which means…”

 

“They’re going to hunt him down and force him to grant a wish for them, each. It’s how the legend goes, it’s the magical trade-off for taking part in the arts: he has to grant a wish to every human who is able to catch him.” He rubs his forehead and sighs. “…Well, Paint: let’s just hope they never catch him.”

 

\--

 

“Today’s the day, stallion! I’m going to break that strong-willed, free spirit of yours. By the end of this week, you’ll be as tame as one of my race horses.”

 

“Fuck off,” Theo sneers, and Black chuckles.

 

“I like your spirit, kid, don’t get me wrong. You’re feisty and kind of sexy, as fuckin’ wrong as that sounds. But half of you is a horse, and that’s the half I’m going to submit to my will. I’m as stubborn as you are, and so I ain’t gonna stop until you’re saddled and will be saddled whenever I ask you to be.”

 

But Theo won’t let him put the saddle on. He bucks and lashes out, thrashing his head and arms, licking up with his front legs, and it isn’t until Black yells at him, growl in his voice, that Theo freezes for just long enough for Black to trip him.

 

Theo tumbles to the ground in a pile of limbs, hissing at the pain, and Black is on top of him then, pinning what he can of the centaur down, and Theo throws a fit, but he yelps and goes still as he feels something sharp puncture his flank.

 

Black wipes his mouth of dust from ground that got onto Theo’s upper thigh and brushes off his clothes as he stands. There is a bite on Theo’s skin, bleeding just barely, and it’s a mark that’s going to stay there for quite a while.

 

Theo squeals and leaps to his feet, limping slightly, and turns to cover it with a hand and shriek, “What did you do?! You gave me human germs! Am I going to turn human, now? Fuck no! _No_! _What the_ fuck _did you do_!”

 

“I branded you,” Black smirks, wiping at his mouth again and rubbing his nose as he sniffs around the dusty air. “In my own way, of course.” And he chuckles, shrugging. “Now you’re mine, even if you get away. And it’s one step closer to breaking you, because now you can look at it and know that you’re mine.”

 

“You bastard,” Theo growls, and when he glares at Black and sees his proud smile, it makes him burn inside in a way he’s never felt before, and he charges at Black and reaches for him, but Black turns and runs for the gate, dashing out and locking it behind him, hearing Theo scuff behind it, letting out a roar of frustration.

 

Black pats the high gate and nods. “All in good time, Theodore. All in good time.”

 

“I hate you,” comes Theo’s reply, and Black merely smiles broader.

 

\--

 

“You’re cruel that poor centaur,” Gold reprimands one night. “You actually _bit_ him.”

 

“He had it coming,” Black shrugs. “And anyway, you have to be cruel to be kind, right? You’ll see. When I’m through with him, he’ll love me. It’ll be reluctant, probably, but he’ll come around like the rest eventually did. And Flora can show him the finer points to being one of our horses, I’m sure.”

 

“The others escaped gladly, or have you forgotten we now have an empty, broken stable, save for one loyal horse we helped raise? And what you’re describing sounds more like Stockholm Syndrome to me, brother,” Gold sighs. “And I don’t like it. While you’ve been roughhousing with poor Theo, I’ve been talking to Paint and walking with him around the inner perimeter of the pasture, and they actually have a lot to teach us about the forest and their kind, and in return, at least for Paint, all he wants is a glimpse at human habits and food and _life._ If we only started to –”

 

“Whoa, whoa, hold up. Since when has this been happening? Your little mingles with the deertaur?”

 

“Since we put them in the high-fenced pasture. I went to apologize to him for all of this, because after getting to know him a bit when I lured him here, I realized that he… is very likable. And I don’t feel right, doing this to him.”

 

Black raises both brows, floored, and drops his hands to his hips. “Uh-huh. So you’re going soft on me, is that it? Big, bad, Mr. Hunter the Gold-ler is going soft on me. Wow.”

 

“He’s a great kid!” Gold says in his defense, his cheeks starting to flush.

 

Black smirks. “Yeah? How great? Do you think about him all the time? Are you becoming more obsessed with him than the idea of your life-long search of the white stag?” and he crosses his arms over his chest again, a smug, all-knowing look on his face, heard even in his tone.

 

Gold jerks backward and goes rigid with nerves, hands clenching into fists. “H-huh? What, no, I –”

 

“Because if you are, we might have a problem on our hands, here. You could be falling for him. And if you fall for him, you’ll lose sight of the goal. And then what? It’s all for naught?”

 

“No…” Gold utters in a sigh, defeated.

 

Black snorts and walks past Gold, patting his shoulder with one hand. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

 

\--

 

The first night he goes to see Paint, it’s on the same day he and Black moved Paint-ler and Theo into the walled pasture. He slips in through the gate, keys slipping into his pocket, and walks over to where Theo and Paint are huddled together in the far corner, asleep.

 

When he enters, Paint stirs awake, always the light sleeper, and blinks blearily at the human before shrinking back against Theo’s warm body.

 

“Hey, hey… it’s all right. I… I came to apologize,” Gold murmurs sincerely, guilt-ridden. “I’ll confess that, at first, I tried to manipulate you to get you here, but… after talking to you a while over tea, I found that you truly are as complex a thinker as a human, not animalistic as I thought. Intellectually, we’re essentially equals, and I wasn’t prepared for that. You’re… actually very interesting, and easy to get along with, even if you’re a bit hesitant. So I’m sorry, Paint. I didn’t mean for this to happen. I hope, despite the circumstances… you might come to like it here. I’ll try my best to treat you fairly.”

 

Paint slowly edges away from Theo and sighs heavily, getting to his feet and taking a few timid steps closer. “…Let’s, um… Let’s walk a little while, so we don’t disturb Theo’s rest,” he whispers, and Gold-ler nods in compliance.

 

Gold folds his hands politely behind his back as he walks at a steady pace alongside Paint. “It’s a lovely night,” he adds quietly, starting to follow the outer walls, eyes following the line of trees through the heavy-duty chain-link fence. “It’s cooler, pleasant. And the stars are bright. There’s Orion.”

 

“And the Dipper…” Paint remarks quietly. “Green taught me all of the constellations, because whether you are human or animal, you know them. They are… the one thing that’s constant between our worlds, I guess.”

 

“Mhm.”

 

“…I accept your apology, by the way,” Paint murmurs, glancing Gold’s way. “I can tell you are much more kind-hearted and generous than your twin brother. He seems a little greedier, out for his own personal gain.”

 

“He is gentle to his friends. Over time, I hope it progresses to that, all of us being friends. And then maybe we can set you free, with the promise of you coming to visit us on occasion, and us to see you. I hope, anyway. I dislike the thought, because you seem so human, and it’s wrong to imprison a human who’s done nothing wrong, but… I can’t risk you and the centaur both going free when I need your help, and wish to study and get to know you both.”

 

“…I understand,” Paint regards, subdued, and twists his fingers together as he paces a bit ahead of Gold, not daring to glance back. “And part of me actually doesn’t mind. Theo despises it, because he likes being really free, but… I’ve never felt like I quite belong with him and my older brother. I… I’m really weak, a-and I’ve always wanted to do human things, like make cooked food and try out all the gadgets humans use, and wear clothes to see how they feel. So, if… if you swear you’ll give me some of those things, then I won’t make a move to escape. If you treat me like a person and not something you hunt and own, then I won’t mind staying here.”

 

“That’s why you accepted my apology, isn’t it? You’re… actually looking forward to part of the experience,” Gold muses, a small smile coming to his lips. “That’s splendid! I’m glad. I will do that for you, it’s no trouble at all. But Theo…”

 

“He’s not happy… and he isn’t looking for anything human in return. He… really wants to go back to the wide open spaces of the forest… you know? He doesn’t share my love of… human stuff.”

 

“Too bad,” Gold smiles regretfully, “He might enjoy some of it. He looks like he would like chocolate-chip pancakes.”

 

“…What are those?”

 

Gold smiles more, peering over at Paint-ler as they walk. “Breakfast food. Very sweet and warm and fluffy and delicious. You can have some for breakfast next, if you like. I’m going into town to shop and sell things then.”

 

Paint grins broadly. “I would love that. It sounds yummy. Thank you.”

 

“…You shouldn’t be thanking me,” Gold sighs, dropping his hands to his sides. “I purposely got you into this mess because I wanted to use you.”

 

“But now you don’t, and that makes all the difference,” Paint answers soothingly. He lightly touches Gold’s shoulder, and Gold looks to him, startled that the deertaur initiated contact between them, and then he looks so content that Paint’s heart skips a beat.

 

“Thank you. I think I needed to hear that, without realizing it.”

 

Paint smiles back, shakily rubbing his thumb over Gold’s shoulder before releasing it. “Yeah, no problem.”

 

\--

 

The next time Gold visits Paint one-on-one, he asks Paint’s permission to link their wrists with rope to keep them tethered together while they take a stroll through the orchard.

 

“…That’s fine,” Paint murmurs, and he watches as Gold ties one end around Paint’s wrist, the other around his own, linking them, and guides him out of the closed-in pasture and out into the orchard, Theo with Black in another part of their land, getting ‘broken.’

 

“Sorry about this, but it’s to keep you from running off without taking me with you,” Gold apologizes as they step into the line of apple trees. He pauses, and it causes Paint to stop suddenly. He reaches up and plucks off a nice, ripe apple and smiles, passing it to Paint-ler. “Here you are.”

 

“Thank you…” Paint murmurs, turning it over in his hands for a moment before dusting it off with his fingers and bringing it to his lips, breaking the skin and loudly crunching the flesh of the apple with his front teeth. He takes a large chunk of it into his mouth and chews thoughtfully while Gold picks up their pace again, and he follows suit.

 

“Why is your name Paint, if I may ask? Seems like an odd name for something like yourself, I don’t know.”

 

“Well, it wasn’t my birth name, I’ll give you that! But… I don’t know my birth name. I can’t remember it. My mother gave it to me, but she was killed before I was very old, and… by the time I needed a name to be called by… which was when I met Theo, and later, when I was reunited with my half-brother… I had developed a hobby, and… I thought, ‘Well, why not call myself Paint, since all I like to do is create?’ …I make natural, washable paints and paint on the same rocks over and over, between rains. I just… like colors, and what I can make from them. I often draw various flowers, the ones Green taught to me.”

 

Gold listens and nods, humming on occasion, and by the end, he lets out a curt, “Ah, I see,” and takes a turn down a row of trees. He clears his throat and adds, “If, say… I bought some paints and canvasses for you, would you like to create some paintings for me?”

 

“I… you would really go through the trouble of that for me?” Paint gasps, blinking, feeling flattered and warmed and surprised. “You really don’t have to… And you should stop feeling guilty about keeping me here, because it’s… not so bad. It was lonely, back at our cave… I like it better here, with you. Once you get passed the whole, hunted-with-a-fenced-in-pasture thing… You’re really nice.”

 

“Oh, I didn’t think… Um. Thank you,” Gold chuckles weakly. He rubs his neck and smiles over at the half-deer. “I’m glad you feel that way. Although Theo…”

 

“He’s just irritable because Black doesn’t treat him like you treat me. Maybe it’s because he’s part horse, and those are things you humans generally ride and have as pets, unlike deer. You… just eat deer. Or ignore them entirely.”

 

Gold winces. “I’ve stopped eating deer since the day you were snared in my bear trap by mistake. I couldn’t look at one the same way again, not unless it was for a client who specifically asked me to hunt one for them. And even then, I’ve… felt different about gutting it. Apologetic. Which is strange for me, since I never gave it much thought before. But now I sit there and think, ‘This one wasn’t a friend of that ‘taur’s, was it?’”

 

Paint laughs a little nervously and shakes his head. “No, I… actually don’t know that many real deer. They think I’m a freak… and a monster… and stay away from me, because I resemble a human, but also resemble one of them, and it’s too confusing for them… so they shy away.” He looks sad, but tries to maintain his smile. “So don’t worry about that. Although, yeah, it… still makes me sad, knowing you kill them.”

 

“I’m sorry. I will decline next time. In fact, I might cease to be a hunter altogether. I don’t much like the idea anymore, upon meeting you.”

 

“…You mean that?” Paint asks, eyes owlishly big, cheeks flushed, and Gold has to tear his eyes away.

 

“Yes, I mean it.”

 

“That’s great,” Paint-ler smiles, _truly_ smiles, and it warms something in Gold’s heart. “I’m glad I could make such a huge change in you. It’s… empowering. And I feel like I can start to really trust you again, Gold…”

 

“…Then I’m glad, too. And I’ll give you my word I won’t pick up a gun again unless it’s in self-defense.”

 

Paint remembers his manners and asks in remorse, “Are you sure you won’t miss it?”

 

Gold considers this, thoughtful frown falling into place. “Miss what, hunting? No, not in the least. I can take up a new hobby. Perhaps… you can teach me how to paint?”

 

The deertaur’s baby blue eyes light up, and he bobs his head and beams brightly. “Definitely!”

 

“Wonderful! I’ll buy the supplies the next time I go into town.”

 

And for the remainder of their stroll, they talk idly about any topic that comes to mind, and by the end, they enjoy each other’s silence as much as their conversation.

 

They pace back to the pasture, and when Gold unloops the rope from Paint’s wrist before they part, his fingers brush Paint’s skin, and Paint slides his fingers into the gaps between Gold’s fingers and gives his hand a gentle squeeze before letting go. Something changes between them in that instant, and Paint optimistically thinks it’s very much for the better.

 

\--

 

On the other hand, the opposite pair on the ranch is not faring half as well.

 

Black, with an unexaggerated, loud grunt, finally sits on Theo’s saddled back, the centaur’s arms bound behind his scarred back and his horse legs kicking wildly. He bucks and rears back, trying to shake or slide off the racer.

 

“Quit your thrashin’! You’re gonna be mine, you stupid beast!”

 

“Stupid!” Theo roars, “I’ll show _you_ stupidity!” snarling as he breaks his bonds and leaps forward to balance on his front knees and his hands, bucking his back legs up into the air, succeeding in tossing Black over his head, the man lying on his back on the ground. He walks to hover over the upsidedown human, the man staring with terror in his eyes up at the centaur. “The only person being stupid here is you!” He growls and clops around the man to stop his front hooves down hard between Black, purposely and narrowly striking his crotch, the man crying out in fear. “Why do you insist on treating me like an animal, huh? I am _no_ animal! I’m not stupid, and I’m not a creature you can domesticate like one of your racehorses, or your loyal little mare!”

 

He hears a shriek come from the stables, Flora having heard that, but she’s cooped up in there. She can’t do anything about it, and Theo smirks at his triumph.

 

Black sputters and scrambles to his feet, breathless and dusting dirt from his clothing. “We’ve been at this for over a week! You think you would understand by now, and since you don’t, then you really are stupid, kid!” he shouts, and Theo charges at him. Black yelps and runs for cover, climbing the chain-link fence and sitting atop it, Theo battering at the metal with his hooves, rattling the man’s balance at the top.

 

“Then explain it to me! It can’t be complicated; your mind is too interior for anything greater than a one-track thought! So what it is, then? Why do you keep trying to tame me when you never can or will, you _pathetic weakling_?”

 

“ _‘Weakling’_!” Black scoffs, voice wobbly as he calms down from the adrenaline, Theo huffing and stepping back from the fence. Black climbs down the other side, and lands with a hop on the ground. He laces his fingers through the thick links and presses close, and Theo glares at him from the other side, a dusty breeze blowing between them. “Now you listen here, you penny shy of a horse’s ass, you’re a challenge, and I intend to beat you, because I have never come across a hurdle I couldn’t overcome. It’s as simple as that.”

 

“Then you need to get your ego checked, _jackass_. Because some challenges can’t be overcome with sheer force of will alone. Sometimes they take something else. And sometimes? _They can’t be beaten at all_.”

 

Black stares at Theo for a long moment, then swallows hard and turns on his heel, marching off. Theo flicks his tail and turns around, marching back to circle the training/riding ground, scraping in frustrating at the ground and letting out a scream of blind fury.

 

He’s only glad that Paint isn’t here to see him like this, even if that means he’s off with that _other_ human.

 

\--

 

Later that evening, Black returns.

 

He aims to rope Theo and move him back top the pasture, although the fence between the pasture and the riding track is low enough for Theo to jump, if he truly desired it.

 

“This is why I hate humans,” Theo grumbles as Black silently comes toward him, frown set firmly in place. Theo backs away and bares his teeth. “You still think you can just come back here and order me about! I’m not going to be conquered. You can take years if you want, but I’m _not_ going to be _broken_.”

 

Black says nothing. He merely makes a move to grab hold of Theo, and Theoshoves him backward, hard, and Black lands on his ears, hissing in pain. Theo slams down his forelegs on either side of Black’s hips, indent carving into the ground, and he stares down at the human before leaping over him and hopping the fence, finally landing in the pasture and marching around, feeling like the score is finally settled now that he got his last word in.

 

Black, oddly calm, stands shakily, and swings his leg over the wooden barrier and walks into the pasture. Theo turns and peers back at him, confidence waning.

 

“What the hell do you want now?” he mutters coldly.

 

“We’ve reached an impasse today. I see that now. It’s a standstill if there ever was one, because I finally met someone as goddamn stubborn as I am,” Black sighs gruffly, running a hand through his hair, and after a good look and a few steps closer, Theo sees the bags under Black’s eyes and how tired he looks. “So fine, you know. I cooled down after this morning and I thought it over a lot – more than I’ve _ever_ really thought about _anything,_ especially _seriously_ , so congrats on that – and I realized you’re right. I’m never gonna tame you, am I? So what do you say, should we call it quits and let bygones be bygones?”

 

“No, you’re not. I refuse, and no amount of torture or otherwise is gonna get you to ride my back peacefully, or have me under your control.” He rolls his eyes. “And yeah, I can believe that, about you never thinking serious or hard about anything else before. You probably never had a reason to! You come from a decently wealthy family of bossy, bullish people, don’t you? So everything was probably handed to you on a silver fucking platter, and whatever wasn’t, it was earned through pigheadedness and pride.”

 

Black seethes and barks back, “Don’t you _ever_ assume you know _anything_ about my family, centaur!”

 

“And don’t _you_ assume that just because you’re agreeing to stop trying to break me, this puts us on any more amiable terms! Because it’s not like I heard an apology in there,” Theo retorts.

 

“Oh, you want one? Well, I’m sorry I tried to treat you like every other horse I encountered. There, happy? Now, here,” he mutters, producing his hand, “Shake on it.”

 

“Shake on _what_? What, exactly, are you making me agree to?”

 

“A truce,” Black shrugs, trying to be casual, but inside he’s about to fly apart at the seams, because he knows Theo is more than capable of fatally harming him, and he sees it now that Theo won’t hesitate to do so in self-defense if Black tries anything hasty.

 

“A truce. Meaning you won’t try to tame me or roughhouse me because you know I can kill you, and in return, I won’t try to kill or roughhouse you because I know you can keep me imprisoned here for as long as we both live. But in not harming or controlling the other, what are we, then? I’m no pet like your mare, but I’m no chum like your brother.”

 

“…I know,” Black returns fluidly. “You’ll just be… an indefinite guest.”

 

“Oh, _lovely_ ,” Theo replies sarcastically. “A man and his captive centaur. How _touching_.”

 

“…Look, are you going to shake my hand, or not?” Black is on the brink of raising his voice, but he somehow maintains a low, seemingly patient drawl.

 

Theo looks down between Black’s large, masculine hand with dirty fingernails and calloused palms and Black’s angular, soft-cheeked, dark-eyed stern face, and after a brief moment of consideration, he walks forward and comes within arms’ reach of the man. Then, without hesitation, his arm darts out and his hand clasps Black and nods it stiffly, eyes never tearing from Black’s.

 

“Truce,” Theo agree somewhat reluctantly, but part of him is relieved that he will no longer have to endure the daily ritual of attempting to be saddled and ridden by the man in front of him. “But just barely. This doesn’t mean we’re on our way to becoming friends like our brothers are.”

 

“Don’t care,” Black half-lies, shrugging. “Works for me. See ya,” and after some hesitation, he releases Theo’s still, overly warm hand in his own and turns slowly, walking away as quickly as his legs will carry him without tripping or breaking his stride into a run.

 

\--

 

“So you have never had pancakes? Neither of you have ever tried to make something human, even if you’ve seen it before somewhere?” Gold remarks one late morning, just shy of noon. He has a portable cardtable set up in the pasture with some folding chairs, serving brunch to the two ‘taurs, Black gone for the day. “Well, I avoided the sweeter, more vibrant flavoered pancakles I can make in favor for traditional buttermilk. I hope they taste all right. I have salted and unsalted butter, and maple and blueberry syrups. Help yourselves, and – oh. Do you know how to use a fork?”

 

“…Not really,” Paint giggles, picking one up and turning it over in his hand. “But I’ve seen campers use them. They hold this end,” he fists the handle and points the forked end down, “And then… stab their food like this?” Paint tries, but it tears and picks up a too-large chunk of pancake, maple syrup smearing on his chin as he tries to nibble the end of it.

 

Theo, meanwhile, glares down at the food. “Human food isn’t really my thing.”

 

“I think you will like it if you taste it,” Gold smiles. He comes beside Paint and stands beside him, gently bringing his arm around Paint’s back and overlapping their forearms as he takes hold of Paint’s hand. “Here, Paint. Hold the fork more like a writing utensil, and use the egde of the fork to cut a little triangle, and then pick up just one bite at a time. See?” he guides, his voice in the deertaur’s ear, and Paint feels his face heat up and his heart skip a couple beats.

 

“Th… thanks,” he mumbles, freckles disappearing in the redness, and he swallows and nods as Gold steps away and lets him feed himself.

 

Paint manages better with the pancakes this time, and once Theo watches Paint’s face light up and start devouring them nearly whole, drowning them in blueberry syrup to mix with the maple already on his plate, Theo cautiously attempts eating his own.

 

The first bite is warm and fluffy and sweet, but not overly so, and as he chews, his face relaxes and he suddenly has a hunger for them. He digs into his plate with his hands, dropping his fork, and shoves handfuls of pancake into his mouth, gulping down orange juice afterward. Paint drinks his own, trying not to laugh too hard at Theo’s chimpunked cheeks, and all the while, Gold laughs and smiles and serves them more when they ask for it.

 

“Pancakes are the fucking _best_ thing I have ever tasted! I take it back, human food is _awesome!_ – Well, as long as it’s not meat!” Theo finished happily, washing his hands when Gold amusedly brings over the hose and the two ‘taurs clean themselves. They dry off by racing one another in the sun through the pasture, laughing and playfully chasing one another, Gold jumping the gate at one point to join them.

 

When they all crash in the center of the grass, smiling dopily because of each other, Theo nudges Gold with his elbow and glances over Paint’s body at the human.

 

“Hey, Gold-ler.” The man looks over, raising a brow. Theo sighs, smile sadly slipping off his face. “You’re not so bad, for a hunter. You’ve been bringing Paint and I really good-tasting human food like _every_ day for the past couple weeks, and while Black’s preoccupied, you’ve been horsing around with us – pun intended – and you seem to _like_ us. As in, like us as _people._ ”

 

Gold nods slowly. “Yes, and?”

 

Paint looks between them, concern on his features. He isn’t sure he likes where his companion is headed with this.

 

“Well… what gives? Because if you weren’t just using us to find our brother and get your wishes – because don’t deny it, I heard you and Black talking since the beginning – I might actually want to be your friend.”

 

Gold opens his mouth to reply immediately, but as soon as he does, he makes a croaking sound and realizes quickly that he isn’t sure what to say to that. He shuts his mouth, exhales heavily through his nose, and sits up. He shakes the grass form his hair and leans forward, elbows on his bent knees.

 

Theo rolls into sitting position and awkwardly touches Gold’s shoulder. “I’m sorry for being a downer, but we _are_ still being held here against our will. I mean, at least I am.” He glances Paint-ler’s way, but the artistic ‘taur adverts his gaze quickly, rubbing one arm with his opposite hand. Theo sighs as well and returns his gaze to Gold. “And as much as I _want_ to like you, because you’re a pretty decent guy, I can’t find it in me to trust you; because just when we have fun like this, I remember all too harshly that this is _wrong,_ and that Paint and I are only here because you need us to be, not because we _wish_ to be. This isn’t our home.”

 

“You’re absolutely right,” Gold murmurs, and he looks down at the ground, thinking hard. “I… Excuse me,” he says, and with that, he stands and leaves the pasture, and once they are alone, Paint-ler comes over to Theo and touches his forearm.

 

“He tries, you know. He really tries to make it nice here for us because he realizes his mistake, but can’t let go of his goal. He’s never fit in with his own family, Theo. He… he told me all about it one afternoon, during one of our walks. Goldand Black were outcasts where they used to live. They were _shunned_ by their own family in the end… and all because they had more brain than brawn, and wanted something more fulfilling out of life than what their family did for a living. They… wanted to do what made them happy, and not what would make their family happy. But because of that… their family distanced themselves from the twins.”

 

“…Their own flesh and blood turned their backs on them?” Theo echoes hollowly. He can’t fathom something like that. His family was killed, they had no choice but to leave him alone; and then he met Paint and, later, Greenthumb, and he and Green aren’t even his relations, aren’t even quite the same species, but they took him in and love him as much as they would if he were born of their blood. To be part of a surrogate family and then hear of a blood family that has less of a band than theirs, it’s… it’s unforgivable and tragic.

 

Paint nods sadly. “…Yeah. And… they hoped Green could change that. Make their family love them, or at least make them too successful for their family to argue with their live choices. In the end, Gold’s hunting costs him more than he earns off of it, and Black loses a lot of his races and bets, and they only have just enough money for cheap food like the pancakes we ate today. He explained it all to me.”

 

“…But… aren’t you afraid that he’s lying to you? Making up this stuff so you pity him and will lead him directly to Green?”

 

Paint shakes his head. “No, he was being honest. I know… I know I can be really gullible and naïve, but you should have heard him, seen him. He showed me pictures. Their family always stood away from him and Black like they were freaks because they were shorter and leaner than the rest of them. And he showed me the safe in their cabin. It’s mostly empty. And their cabin is really drafty inside because they had to build it themselves, since all they could afford was this property, not with a house already built on it. So they had to make one themselves.”

 

“…No way,” Theo murmurs.

 

Paint sighs. “It’s awful. Their older brothers bullied them a lot. Gold showed me his scars from when they went too far sometimes. He says that Black’s are worse, because Black would fight back every single time, which only made them angrier when they got hurt from him, and so they would overpower him and runt o their mother, saying he started it. And he never, ever had anything under his control. He was the youngest, so everyone bossed and controlled him; even Gold, sometimes, and Gold feels bad about that now.”

 

“…No wonder he likes challenges he can beat and keep animals under his control,” Theo murmurs. “It’s all he can have control over, to make him feel just a little bit better about himself.” He inhales raggedly and combs back his hair with his blunt nails. “Damn.”

 

“That’s why… I want to take them to Green, Theo.”

 

“What!” Theo gasps, head jerking upward in shock. “You seriously are planning to –”

 

“Green has plenty of powers to spare, and they just need a little hope in their lives, Theodore!” Paint pleads, tugging on Theo’s arm and his eyes welling with tears, baby blues turning into pools of silver. “Please? Let’s just take them. They can have their one wish and be on their merry way, and then we can be free, and… and Gold can be happy.”

 

“…Wait. Gold? You said Gold in specific at the end there,” Theo murmurs.

 

“Huh? What? No, I didn’t…”

 

“Yes, you _did_ ,” Theo counters quickly. “You… you are about Gold’s happiness. You want to give Gold his wish not because you want to be free again, but because you want him to feel freer. Oh, my God. Paint, you… you’re in love with him.”

 

“N-no! H-h-how can you jump t-to a conclusion like th-that?! I d-don’t –” but Paint loses his steam quickly, his stutter rendering him speechless as he clamps his jaw shut in embarrassment. He hides his face in his hands and groans, heavily a sob, and only after Theo is softening and shushing him, wrapping his arms around the deertaur. Paint blubbers into Theo’s bare shoulder, knuckles rubbing furiously at his eyes, “I-I-I – _hic_ – do l-l-l-love him; I’m s-sorry, Th-Th-Theo… I-I’m a dis-disgrace to o-our… r-race… f-falling f-for a hu – _hic_ – man like th-this…”

 

“It’s all right…” Theo whispers. “It’s not your fault. He’s handsome and kind to you and makes you laugh and introduces you to new things that you have always been more curious about than I have, and he somehow suits you. I don’t know how, but he does, and even I can see it, much as I don’t wish to,” he relays with benevolence, stroking Paint’s hair. “I understand it. I wished to God you didn’t love him, but I don’t blame you for developing feelings for him. Like I said, if… circumstances were different… I’d be his friend.”

 

“Why can’t we be his friend?” Paint asks, voice hushed, as he pulls his face away from Theo’s familiar, warm skin. “Why can’t I just let him be happy with one wish?”

 

Theo chews on his bottom lip. In all sincerity, he sees nothing wrong with Gold-ler having his wish, whatever it may be, because in his heart he trusts the man to choose the right thing and not get cocky or greedy or take a turn for the worst with his choice in magic. Slowly but surely, he nods. “All right. All right, we’ll take Gold to Green. But _only_ Gold.”

 

Paint smiles through his teary face and hugs Theo tightly. “Thank you thank you thank you thank you!!”

 

\--

 

“Gold, seriously. Come away from the window. You’ve been staring out of it for the past hour and it’s freaking me out,” Black bemoans as he enters Gold’s bedroom for the fifth time during the hour, having checked on the man every dozen minutes or so to see if he was still rooted to the same spot. And he has been every single time. “What are you staring at, anyway? Please don’t tell me it’s that deertaur.”

 

“…I apologize, Black, but I can’t get him out of my head.”

 

“…Fuck. You love him.”

 

“No. I – Yes.” Gold sighs heavily and drops the curtain, finally stepping away from the window and turning toward Black in the dark room. The sun set during the hour, and he hadn’t bothered to move to flick on the light. “Yes, I think I might. He’s very charming, and innocent, and talented, and he doesn’t care that we’re the runts in the family, and he enjoys my company despite what we’re doing to him – holding him hostage – and he… he might love me, too. He looks at me sometimes the way I look at him, I think, and… and I have never had anyone return my feelings before. And somehow, that makes me feel all the more giddy in his presence.” He sighs again and drops to sit on the edge of his mattress.

 

Tucking in for the long haul, Black rolls his eyes, flicks on the light, and moves to sit in the hand-made rocking chair across from his brother. “Well, what are you going to do about it? Shitty arrangement, being in love with a ‘taur, if you ask me. Not fair on either end. I mean, you can’t even screw him without it being bestiality –”

 

“ ** _Black!_** _”_

 

“… _What?_ –Sorry. I’m just being blunt, here.”

 

Gold groans and drops his head into his hands. “I know…” He ruffles his own hair until it’s messily sticking up in all directions, and he keeps his head hung long after he drops his hands to the bed on either side of his hips. “What am I going to do? I can’t… I _shouldn’t_ have fallen for him, but I _have._ I love everything about him, from his sweet personality to the slightly rough edge to his voice to every freckle on his skin. A-and I mean, have you _seen_ his paintings? Absolutely no schooling, and until I gave him the tools just this week, he’s merely self-taught himself using only berries and his fingers on cave walls. But with a brush and real acrylics on real canvas… _Wow._ His landscapes and flowers and freestyle abstracts are _incredible!_ I want to frame and hang them all, they are so gorgeous.”

 

Black rolls his eyes. “I _know._ I saw the whole kitchen lined with ‘em. And that’s how I knew you were smitten. I mean, come _on;_ who buys paints and easels and shit with their long-time savings for a _stranger_? Not unless they’re in love and don’t want to be strangers any more,” Black scoffs. He, too, sighs, and looks out the crack left in the curtains. He can only see Theo at this angle, the smooth curve of Theo’s back and silhouette of his head and wild hair in the moonlight, the sleek curves of his arms and horse’s body, and he quickly adverts his gaze to rest back on his twin. “So… what are you gonna do?”

 

Gold has already decided that. But it’s nothing he can tell Black without Black getting passionately outraged, so he shakes his head and murmurs, “Not a thing.” And he’s lying through his teeth, but it sounds so convincing coming from his depressed, monotone voice that Black accepts it as the truth and nods, getting up and leaving Gold’s bedroom without a second thought.

 

\--

 

That night, Paint has a dream.

 

It’s a vivid dream so detailed that he wakes up dazed and confused, as if the dream were another life he was being reminded of.

 

In the dream, Paint wanders through a college campus. He finds Theo there, dressed in a faux-leather jacket embroidered with flames, hair styled with gel and smile bright, his nails painted black and a pencil in his hand, scribbling notes on the diagrams the professor is showcasing on the board.

 

“I’m going to be a zoologist. Not a _zoo_ -ologist, someone who works at a zoo and makes minimum-wage and shoves rhino shit, but a _zo_ ologist, a scientist who studies animals. It’s gonan happen, Paint. I’m really gonna do it. We’ve dissected thirty specimens this semester, _thirty!_ One from each of the major phylums. And I did perfect on each and every one. Aced every test. It’s gonan be rad, man. I’ll go on hikes through the rainforest and discover new species. I’ll get my name in the scientific history books, along with the others of my field. I can’t fucking wait to get my doctorate.”

 

And Paint feels something heavy around his neck, and when he looks down, there is a classy camera around his neck, and when he returns home, his second bathroom had been converted into a dark room, developed photos hanging above the bathtub, chemicals in bins in the tub below.

 

And one day in the dream, Paint and Theo are wandering the forest; Theo is looking for a rare type of insect that is only around for the summer, and Paint is aiming to photograph it, among other things. He always is looking for a photo opportunity in nature, it feels like.

 

And that’s when they find them: a pair of antelopetaur, twins, by the look of it, strong and a little small and delicate around the ankles, but quick and nimble and beautiful, their horns long and twisted and narrow, their eyes piercing black and gold, their hair dark and wild and dotted with bits of leaves and brambles, and their skin lightly tanned and lovely, their chests broad and glistening with sweat as they run.

 

Paint and Theo freeze, and soon, the antelope-folk grow still as well, and it’s a staring contest.

 

Paint raises his camera, snaps their photo without flash, and Theo snaps a twig as he takes a step closer, and the black-eyed one jerks, tense, but on impulse, leaps over a log and utters in Black’s voice (and he _looks_ like Black, just… as he would if he were a ‘taur, Paint thinks when he wakes), “What are you doing in our forest?”

 

And Theo smiles brightly. “I’m going to be the most famous zoologist in history,” and the ‘taurs frown in confusion, the golden-eyed one (Gold-ler! It has to be…) joining the other, except he stands in front of Paint, and Paint’s breath dies in his chest because Gold is so stunning like this, intense and otherworldly and lovely, and he has no idea if this is how he looks in Gold’s eyes in real life, or if this is just the dream making the reverse full of more splendor.

 

Either way, the four slowly come closer, without words, and the exchange becomes dreamy and golden-green in the light filtering down through the leaves, and when the breeze sweeps by coolly and caressing the side of Paint’s body in the dream, Paint snaps awake in real life.

 

And he’s greeted by familiar features, the horns from the dream fading and melting away into the summer night.

 

\--

 

“Mnh, Gold?” Paint stirs groggily, yawning and rubbing at his eyes. He wakes to dew on his skin and fur, to Gold’s palm, cool from the air of the night, touching softly over him.

 

“Wake up,” Gold whispers. “We don’t have much time. Black becomes a light sleeper once the sun starts to rise.”

 

“Wha…” Paint utters, trying to grasp what’s going on as his dream of being a photographer and Gold and Black as ‘taurs drift away, forgotten completely.

 

“I’m setting you free,” Gold says softly, and he looks away quickly, hand touching to his eyes so fast that Paint almost doesn’t catch the action at all. But when Gold glances back, sad smile on his face, Paint’s heart leaps and he understands.

 

Suddenly wide-awake and on his feet, Paint paces a bit on his legs and reaches out to grasp Gold’s arms. “What? No! I like it here with you… I like feeling more human, eating brunch with you each morning and taking walks through the orchard in the afternoon and painting with you in the evenings… I like spending time with you, hearing your laugh and seeing your eyes look relieved from the past I know you have. Please… don’t do this. I want to help you, Gold. I –” and he cuts off, unsure if he should mention Green now, unsure if Theo or Black will hear him and wake, unsure if Theo is allowed to be free as well, unsure of everything except for the solidity of Gold’s forearms under his fingertips.

 

Gold’s resolve falters, and he trembles a bit; with a shiver of the late summer night or going back on his decision, Paint isn’t positive, but in the end, Gold shakes his head, and that’s definite, if nothing else.

 

“I will visit you sometimes, in the forest. We can meet where we met. Not the best memory, but… it’s a place we can call our own. And if you are ever in trouble, my doors are open for you… as a friend. And I’m going to take down these high walls as soon as you and Theo are both safely away from here, back in the forest where you belong,” Gold-ler replies.

 

Paint leans in and kisses Gold, impulsive and uncaring of the consequences, and when he breaks apart soon after, they are both pink-faced and Paint takes a few steps backward, fumbling with his hands. “Th-thank you, Gold. I won’t forget you. And I’ll meet you there tomorrow, at noon, so you know we got home all right.”

 

“That would be… perfect. Good. Yes, meet you there,” Gold recovers slowly from the kiss and smiles broadly, unable to help himself. “Now go wake Theo, and both of you quietly follow me out the gates, and to the line of trees on the outside of the property. From there, you are on your own, but at least I can hold off Black for you until you’re far enough away.”

 

Paint nods, turns, and nudges Theo awake, helping the sleepy centaur to his feet and explaining in a rushed, giddy whisper that they are being let go.

 

As Theo walks beside Paint in Gold’s footsteps, he can’t help but pick up his pace and reach out for the man. “Why are you doing this?”

 

“As a show of good faith, that not all humans are as bad as they appear. And because I have had a change of heart. I don’t need a wish from your magical brethren to change my life. I can do it myself. And because… because I love Paint, and can’t see him being held here. I never understood _Beauty and the Beast_ very well… That is, until now.”

 

“Beauty and the _what_?” Theo frowns, confused.

 

Gold smiles. “Nothing. A fictional tale about an unlikely romance between a woman and an ugly, once-human beast who held her captive, then let her go out of love.”

 

“Oh. Sounds depressing.”

 

“Hmm,” Gold murmurs, “I always thought it had a happy ending, but when I think about it… yes, it is. Very bittersweet.”

 

“I don’t like bittersweet,” Paint murmurs as he comes into the conversation, panting a bit to keep up with Gold’s and Theo’s long strides, their whispers just barely caught by his ears. “I want a happy ending.”

 

“Not everything can end happily,” Gold remarks softly as they reach the trees.

 

Theo looks into the dark forest and then back at Gold. “Thank you for this. I mean, you and Black lured and caught us in the first place, but you’re choosing to let us go, and… that makes you trustworthy after all. So thank you for proving me wrong. You are a friend, Gold-ler.”

 

Gold nods and offers his hand, and Theo shakes it. “Be safe, and farewell, my friend,” he replies warmly, dropping their hands. Theo nods, and then, he turns and gallops at top speed, gone within moments.

 

Paint wraps his arms around Gold and hugs him tightly, forgoing the shake Gold offers him. “You… are very special to me, even if you’re human and I’m not,” the artist whispers, and Gold returns the embrace fiercely and hides his face in the crook of Paint’s neck. Paint smells of grass and earth and acrylics and game, and it’s distractingly wonderful. He has to force himself to slowly pull away.

 

“And you are to me. But we will see each other again soon, remember? I just need you gone before Black wakes up. I’ll tell him you escaped. I’ll break the gate to make it look like Theo busted you out.”

 

“…That actually makes sense,” Paint giggles nervously to hide the oncoming tears. He sniffs, and Gold touches his face, and then the human whispers goodbye, and he’s walking away before Paint has time to reply.

 

Paint watches Gold return to the ranch as he backs into the trees, walking backward and stumbling a bit as he keeps his eyes trained on the retreating figure. Then, quickly, Paint turns and dashes through the woods, racing home to his cave in the glen by the brook.

 

\--

 

Theo almost forgot how much he loves to run.

 

Really, truly run; his four legs beating the ground, the wind in his mane, his eyes stinging and dry with the air, watering up without his care, his torso leaning forward into the trees, hooves clopping on the grass and fallen branches, his powerful back legs soaring over logs and landing flawlessly, his arms spread wide and free like a hawk’s wings, his head tossed back as he slows and pants heavily, dancing in a circle of moonlight.

 

He forgot how much he loves the strain, the burn, of his muscles and the trickle of his sweat; he forgot how much he loves the freedom of racing at his fastest speed without the burden of running out of room or into a fence or with someone on his back.

 

When Theo reaches the cave, he hoots and hollers inside of it, familiar echo greeting his ears like an old friend, and by the time Paint arrives, Theo is curled up in his old bed of leaves and sod in the corner, and he’s contentedly resting, and Paint silently joins him, panting a bit and sighing once he’s on the ground.

 

The cave feels cold and empty without Gold’s cabin nearby, but Paint doesn’t mention the feeling to Theo at all.

 

Theo wouldn’t understand.

 

\--

 

“They’re gone, aren’t they?” Black states first thing in the morning when he joins Gold in the kitchen for coffee, like they do every morning. He pours himself a cup, he turns around, holds the overly-sugared, black coffee to his lips, takes a long sip as he leans back against the granite countertop, and he waits for the response.

 

“Who’s gone?”

 

“Don’t play _dumb_ ,” Black suddenly snarls, slamming his coffee down hard, hot liquid sloshing and scorching his hand. He howls and runs it under cold water in the sink beside him, then shuts off the faucet and points with a dripping finger at the window above it, the window facing the side of the pasture that the (too cleanly broken) gate is on. “ _Dumb_ doesn’t suit you, Gold. You’re the smartest person in our entire _fucking_ family. So what happened to them, huh? You let them _go,_ didn’t you? Because you think you _love_ one of them! _Tch_!”

 

Angered now, Gold stands from his chair at the small kitchen table, hearing it scrape back on the floorboards loudly. He plants a hand firmly on the surface and clenches the other into a fist. “ _Yes,_ I freed them. Because _yes,_ I _do_ love Paint. I don’t _think_ so; I _know_ so.”

 

“Dammit, Gold! You just blew our chance at finding our ticket out of this business and onto something better!” he snaps, voice booming as he bursts forth and shoves Gold into the table, jarring his already messed up spine. “Now what the fuck will we do? Are you even going to hunt for the white stag anymore, or are you too concerned with possibly accidentally hurting your little lover’s brother?”

 

Gold punches his twin square in the jaw, and it turns into a game of fisticuffs for a solid ten minutes, until they are both huffing and hunched over, bruises and busted lips and hands on knees and wiping mouths.

 

“I’ll never forgive you for this,” Black breathes, and then he storms out of the cabin, grabbing his car keys with him on the way out.

 

\--

 

“Gold!” Paint frets at noon, finding the man with band-aids over cuts and reddish, purpling blotches on his normally flawless skin. “What happened to you?”

 

“Black was upset about losing his wish, that’s all,” Gold shrugs. He feels Paint’s soothingly warm fingers touch a sore spot, and he winces and then smiles. “I’ll heal in a week. It’s worth it to see you outside of the confines of my pasture.”

 

“Speaking of which… did you really –?”

 

“I did. As soon as Black left this morning, I finished my coffee and got to work. Those high, sturdy fences are no more, as promised,” Gold confirms proudly. “Now, if and when you decide to visit, you won’t have to worry about being trapped by Black or me or anyone else, because those walls are gone for good, and nothing could hold you or Theo now. If you come again, you’ll be friends invited into our cabin, not prisoners in our pasture.”

 

Paint chuckles a bit and glances down. “That’s good to know,” he muses, and when he peers up again, his eyes search Gold’s. “Goldy…” he murmurs. “Um. What would you wish for, if you could still meet the magical stag?”

 

“Hmm?” Gold hums curiously, quirking a brow. He catches up on what Paint-ler said, and considers it. “Huh. Now that you mention it, I’m not sure. My ideas about happiness have changed. I wouldn’t ask for what I initially went in search of him for, I can tell you that much.”

 

“That’s… good. Really good,” Paint nods slowly, tone soft. He smiles brightly by the end, and peers up at Gold again. “Okay. Just checking.”  


“Why do you ask?”

 

Paint steps closer and reaches for Gold’s hands. He takes them into his own and gives them a small squeeze, swinging them idly between their bodies. “Because I want to take you to him. My half-brother, Greenthumb. You’re a good man, and even though Green can be really stingy about his magic, it’s like a built-in rule that he has to grant one wish to any human that finds him. So if I help lead you to him, he can use his horns to give you something, whatever one thing you want.”

 

“…T… Truly?” Gold utters quietly, surprised out of his mind. He never thought Paint would be generous enough to reveal the location of the white stag, no matter how close they got, even if he freed him. He gave up on his obsession after falling in love; he never thought he would still get a wish, not after everything that’s happened already.

 

Paint nods eagerly, smiling. “Come on, don’t look at me like that! I know you’re not playing me anymore, and I know, after everything, you could use one good wish. So I’m going to make sure you get it. Not today; and maybe not even this week, since I know Green’s aware of mine and Theo’s absence for the past month, so he might be hiding out or weary, but once he sees we’re all right and back to normal again, he’ll return to his hut and be welcome to visitors, and that’s when I’ll bring you to him. I promise.”

 

“I can’t thank you enough,” Gold murmurs. “And I think I know just what I want to wish for.”

 

“Oh! What?” Paint asks curiously.

 

Gold winks. “That’s a secret. If I tell you, it might not come true. Right?”

 

Paint knows that ridiculous – this isn’t the same as wishing on a shooting star – but he doesn’t pry; he simply laughs, and after a nice, hour-long stroll together and more chatting, Paint and Gold parts ways once more, with the promise of seeing each other again in two days.

 

\--

 

Two days later, Gold waits by the apple tree at the designated time, but Paint doesn’t show. He waits for hours just in case Paint is late and couldn’t get away from Theo, but Paint remains absent.

 

Worried, Gold sets off into the forest, careless of whether or not Black decides to come looking for him.

 

He doesn’t find Paint, even with all his wandering, compass tightly in palm in his jacket to help him find his direction back home, to the west of his starting point.

 

About to turn home – fruitless, wondering, anxious, tired – Gold hears rustling, and he calls out timidly, “Paint-ler?”

 

Theo’s voice answering him first. Theo emerges from the brush seconds later, breathless and pleading and desperate. “No. No. It’s just me. Have you seen him? Oh, God. Oh my _God_. I can’t find him, not _anywhere_! What did you do? Dear Lord, where is he?”

 

A cold stone sinks to the pit of Gold’s stomach, and his head feels light.

 

Chest tightening into steel wool, his voice scratchy and bare to match, Gold answers, “We’ll find him. At all costs.”

 

Theo swallows a lump in his throat, tears prickling his eyes. “I knew he was coming to see you. He told me he was. Fuck, I should have followed him. I should have kept an eye on him, made sure he was safe, like I usually do. Dammit, God fucking dammit…” and he’s crying openly, now, and Gold rushes forward and raises his arms to grip the tall centaur’s shoulders.

 

“Get yourself together!” he barks, and Theo shuts up mid-sob and his face falls as he peers down at the golden-eyed human. Gold lowers his voice to a calm,. Stern tone and informs the younger, “I’ll get my hunting equipment, you’ll take me to your cave, and we’ll track his path from there. We’ll find him, Theodore. I swear on my _life_ that we’ll find him. No matter what.”

 

Theo can only nod.

 

\--

 

“I’m coming, too,” Black utters, and Theo launches into all the reasons why he shouldn’t.

 

“You just want to get him and force us both to take you to Green! You still want your goddamn selfish wish, and you don’t even care if Paint is out there lost or dead! You heartless, self-indulgent, irksome –”

 

“I’m in this for you, you idiot! Not for your stupid magical friend!” Black retorts sharply, and Theo goes quiet. Black huffs and glances away. “All right? I… I missed you,” he says like it’s a sin, and he curses under his breath afterward. He gathers up his gear and puts on his camouflage hat, walking past Theo and bumping his shoulder. “I was just starting to feel like I could get to know you better like those two did, and Gold went and set you ‘n’ him free, and I couldn’t even say goodbye.”

 

Theo turns, watching the man walk off as he says this in a grumbled passing, and he quickly trots to keep up. “What? But you – You can’t be serious. Why would – Especially after –” and he can’t finish hardly any sentence properly. He frowns and waits for a response while Gold joins them outside, finally ready to go, his eyes red. He’s been crying the entire time he’s been suiting up, and neither of the other parties says a thing about it.

 

“Let’s go,” Gold states, and Black and Theo fall into line behind him as they stand where they are, at a crossroads of their own, and let the older twin lead the way.

 

\--

 

The pain is unbearable.

 

It’s searing, throbbing, spiking up his body and feeling raw and strong in one point, but stinging up his muscle fibers around the entire portion of his flank, and the bullet is heavy where it’s bedded in his flesh, and he groans and can’t make a move to put pressure on the wound or cry out, because all he can feel is pain and nothing more, like a black hole swallowing him up.

 

The abyss that greets him is the solid ground beneath him, and he shudders and gasps and groans long and low, a whine of the dying escaping his lips.

 

His essence in all its bright red glory pours from him in streams, the trickle of blood like ribbons of crimson down the mountain of his leg, and it would be artistic if it weren’t so gruesome and incredibly, impossibly painful.

 

No one told him getting shot would feel like this. A bear trap around his ankle, a small broken bone or two is nothing compared to bleeding out into the soil below, leg numb and unfeeling, his entire flank coursing with sheer, crying pain up his rib and stabbing his brain with signals going off every time anything in his body moves; his lungs, his heart, his spasming tendons.

 

Paint grinds his teeth and covers his face and screams, and the poachers or hunters or whoever humans has the guns have long since panicked and run from the strange being they found they shot, because they wanted a deer, a nice buck, and didn’t get one, and instead they found something half-human and entirely foreign, and felt no other reaction was necessary but to high-tail it out of the forest.

 

And he’s so far off-trail, away from the route he’s been making to and from his meeting place with Gold, his old apple-spot, because the hunters chased him, shot at him a few times; missing by inches. Until, finally, when he stopped to catch his breath, they got him. Non-lethally, if he’s found and patched up soon, but lethal if he bleeds out here and now, never found, and left to infection and maggots.

 

Paint shudders again, body crippled with pain, and he cringes at the thought, restarting his cries of agony and tears of horror as he thinks rapidly to himself, ‘Please, Lord, please don’t let me die here… not alone, not apart from my friends and family, not shot down by two terrified, amateur hunters… Please…’

 

And it’s all he can do not to partially want someone to come along and end it, if only to spare him the pain and loneliness.

 

\--

 

When Paint’s path strays off the thin deer-trail he normally takes, it takes a long, tumbling detour down the side of a hill. There are skid marks in the leaves and scratches of cloven feet in the bark down the side, and as they reach the bottom, Black lands wrong and sprains his ankle. It swells almost immediately, impossible to walk on without overwhelming pain, and he can’t grit through it.

 

“He’ll have to be carried,” Gold states. “Theo, please.”

 

“What! Fuck no! After all I went through with him, you really think I’m going to let him ride me?”

 

“He won’t be riding you, he’ll be _carried_ until we can find Paint. It’s either horseback or bridal style, and your arms will get tired with the latter. So he must, Theo.”

 

Theo glances at Black and sighs, because the man has no poker face when it comes to limping in agony, dragging his foot slowly behind them on the path.

 

“Fine… but it’s not a domestic thing, all right? I’m not his _horse._ I’m just… helping a guy with a broken ankle out,” Theo reasons, and Gold waves it aside and keeps looking, following Paint’s panicked, running tracks in the softer soil at the bottom of the drop, amidst the thicker, older trees.

 

They walk at a slow pace behind Gold as they let the hunter do his job, the sun starting to drop behind the trees, drawing deep shadows along the earth.

 

“…Thanks,” Black mumbles, patting Theo’s side with his hand, short horsehair smooth under his fingers. “I know it’s… not what you ever wanted. And in a way, you’re still in control. So. It’s not like… you know.”

 

“I know,” Theo sighs. He almost laughs. “Ironic, though, isn’t it? You got what you wanted. You’re riding me, and without a saddle, no less. But it’s all because of your stupid, weak ankle.”

 

“Hey! It’s not my fault I lost my footing. Shit’s muddy on that slant. And there are fallen logs and branches and shit everywhere. It’s a miracle you and Gold didn’t wind up the same way, especially with your big horse feet!” Black counters in his defense.

 

Theo chuckles lightly at that. Peering over his shoulder at the other, half-turning his torso as he walks, he replies, “He and I know these woods better than you do. We know how to avoid stuff like that, even if we lose our footing. And my ‘ _horse feet’_ actually kept me balanced and stable, thank you very much.”

 

Black huffs. “Whatever.” He glances around, and then at Theo’s nape and the way his hair collects into a V there, and down his sleek shoulders and back, eyes following the huge scars there. He reaches out to finger the line of one, making Theo halt in his tracks and tense up.

 

“What are you doing?”

 

“…Your scars. They’re so big, rough. What are they front, a mountain lion?” Black murmurs.

 

“Keep up, you two!” Gold yells back at them from fifty feet ahead, and Theo kicks into gear, picking up his pace once more, closing the gap to a good fifteen feet.

 

“…Bobcat, actually,” Theo says after a while, and for a moment, Black forgot what they were talking about. Then he looks in front of himself and remembers. “Gold would have known that.”

 

“Well, I’m not a hunter, I’m a racer.” He reaches out and touches the scars again, tracing them with his fingers, spreading out his hand as wide as it will go to patch the four heavy marks, and the touch slows Theo again, and makes goosebumps rise on his flesh, but this time, he doesn’t flinch or stop walking. “How did it happen, exactly? You feel like being a rebel and decided to take on a cat, or what?”

 

“I’m no rebel; at least not like that,” Theo scoffs, trying to play it cool as he relives the hellish day. “I wasn’t lookin’ for a fight. And I was young, small; so that’s why the scars are so big. They stretched and grew with my skin, and were pretty vast on my back to begin with. It was, uh, not long after I met Paint. And we collecting raspberries in this clearing by the mountain.

 

“And, well, I guess the lion smelled us or heard us, and the next thing we knew, it leapt out and we were running for our lives from it. And even though I was younger, I was still bigger, because Paint was just this scrawny fawn at the time, but I was a strong, heady colt, so I turned and stood my ground when we ran out of places to run, taking a wrong turn and winding up in front of a steep climb like the one we just slid down.

 

“Paint told me that it wasn’t worth it, but to me, he’s definitely worth a fight and possible death. He was the only person to find me and take me in after I lost my family, and I would do anything to protect him. So I fought the beast. I throw it over the side of a cliff, and it broke its back and died at the bottom, but not before it rolled with me and scratched up my back. But when it pinned me and I kicked it off and flung it over the edge, the blood and pain didn’t matter, because I knew I had saved Paint-ler. Saved us both. And that’s a memory worth the weight of those scars.”

 

Black is awed into silence, and he nods as they keep trekking the forest. He touches the claw marks again, and this time, Theo feels warmed by the touch, and doesn’t protest when Black leans in closer to his back, scooting forward a smidge, resting the side of his head and closing his eyes, cheek and ear pressed between Theo’s shoulders, black hair tickling his skin.

 

Theo glances back at Black, but he misses Gold coming to a halt in front of him. He runs into Gold’s outstretched arm, and is about to ask, “What?” when he sees it: a bullet freshly stuck into a tree, judging by the sap and bright paleness of the bark beneath the topmost layers, splintered jaggedly, with a bit of burning around the center.

 

Their fears fall into the same jar, and when Black lifts his head and sees it as they start moving again, he swallowed hard and wishes, for both Theo’s and Gold’s sakes, that Paint is all right.

 

\--

 

His body cools in temperature all over, but is the coldest and hottest at once where the bullet resides in his back leg. His tail droops and his ears are quivering and flat against his head, his bottom lip worried raw between his teeth.

 

Not much longer, now.

 

Not much longer…

 

\--

 

“Paint! Paaaint! _Paint-ler_!” Gold and Theo take turns calling out, because not they found another few marks of bullets grazing and sunken into tree trunks about as high as Paint’s head, and droplets of blood leading over a log and behind broken bushes.

 

With a sick feeling in their stomachs, the three clear the way and stumble into the small clearing of trees circling the hunters’ victim.

 

Paint lie there, his back facing them, legs awkwardly positioned from a jump and a fall he couldn’t properly make, and he’s breathing, they soon discover, but only just.

 

_Only just._

 

Gold kneels down immediately, dropping his gun and everything else, and Theo falls to his own knees, Black hobbling off, sliding to rest on the ground. They watch as Gold removes the bullet with a tool from his pocket and weeps openly, moving to cup Paint’s face and rest his head in his lap.

 

Gold-ler lets out a mournful cry and bends over to kiss Paint’s brow. “I was going to wish to be a deertaur like you,” he whispers. “Because I had a change of heart. Because I love you,” and he’s confessing to a barely-conscious, dying man, and he doesn’t know what to do. There isn’t enough time. There can never be enough time, not to carefully put him on Theo’s back and bring him to the cabin, not without a struggle and obstacles and climbing, and not without Gold hauling Black over his own shoulder and inching behind, and not without involving a veterinarian or doctor or somebody who can’t know that ‘taurs exist.

 

It’s too messy. Too complicated. And there _isn’t enough time._

 

“Green,” Theo whispers. “Green, where are you… We could use some magic. Anything. Please…” and he covers his face in his hands, helpless.

 

“Theo, what did you just say?” Black nudges him, shuffling over and yanking his wrist. “Who?”

 

“Greenthumb, our brother. The… the magical white stag,” he pipes up, and Black’s eyes go wide.

 

“Isn’t he in this forest? Can’t you go get him? You know where he is, right? Right?!”

 

“I-I… I don’t… I mean, he has a hut, and it’s a bit far, in the opposite direction, but closer than your cabin or anything else, and… But he’s a bit of a nomad, too! He has multiple huts all over this forest, and I only know of the one closest to my cave! What if he’s not there?” Theo expresses frantically, hands waving and tears running down his face.

 

Black clutches him and gives him a push. “Get up. Go. Run faster than you ever have, and bring him here. Don’t even think about it, just go to his hut and seek him out. He can fix this, right? As long as Paint isn’t dead, he can heal him?”

 

Theo stands, legs shaky, and mumbles, “Well, yeah, but –”

 

“Then _go_! What are you waiting for?” Black screams, desperate, unable to bear the devastation in his twin’s wails and Paint dying on Theo, leaving him essentially alone again, from what he can tell.

 

Neither of them should be alone.

 

\--

 

Theo forgot how quickly he can move.

 

He’s never run so fast in his life, not even when he broke free of the twins’ property, and not even when he was running for dear life form the bobcat. He’s never covered so much ground in so little time before, and his hooves felt like lead the entire way, but also as if they were gliding over the ground, hardly touching down, like hydroplaning tires on rainy pavement.

 

He skids to a stop in front of Green’s hut and bursts in.

 

Green is there, in the middle of preparing a vegetable soup in his tiny stone chimney-stove, and the second he sees the wild fear and panic and sweat and flushed face and heaving lungs, Green knows something is wrong.

 

“Take me there,” Greenthumb states flatly. Now is not the time to be lazy. Now is the time to make haste, and he can feel is in waves from Theo.

 

So he follows without another word, kicking up dirt to put out the fire in his hut on his way out, not even caring that his soup will be inedible in the process.

 

They race through the trees, and with a signal from the birds, Green takes Theo a different way than the path he came.

 

“They say this way is faster. Come on. Paint’s running out of time,” Green calls out, and Theo is aching and exhausted, but he pushes onward, heart feeling it’s about to give out in his breast. He doesn’t ask how Green knows what’s wrong; he trusts that it must be the birds above and Green’s magic ability to speak to them, and he trusts it. Nothing is more important than Paint, and certainly no detail like this.

 

They move at the speed of sound, the birds overhead carrying Theo through the fogginess rising in his eyes, blurring his vision with tears and the threat of fainting. He perspires and overheats and charges ever still, Green far ahead of him, but that’s fine, that’s perfect; as long as Green gets there first and saves Paint’s life, that’s all that matters.

 

\--

 

When they finally arrive back at the scene, Gold-ler and Black and shocked into silence as Green slows and walks between them to Paint’s leg, kneeling in front of his stomach. Green turns to Gold, and, surprisingly soft, he remarks, “You found me, after all this time, O Great Hunter,” and the title is said sarcastically, but his voice is genuine as he adds, “So you have one wish. Use it wisely.”

 

Gold doesn’t even need time to think. “Heal him. That’s my wish. I wish for Paint to be as healthy as he was this morning.”

 

Greenthumb smiles minutely and nods. He stoops to bow his head. Then he touches his horns directly to Paint’s wound; normally he can use his hands or a staff as a tool, but not today. It works faster and stronger this way, and it can reverse some of the blood loss around it and seal the skin quicker.

 

It drains a lot of magic in one burst, more than usual, but when he’s through, Paint is sleeping soundly and there is a patch of fur missing on his flank, but a scar is all that is left.

 

“By Jove…” Gold murmurs, and he scrambles to touch the once gory spot to find only a clean slate. “You…” he begins, but find he doesn’t know how he wants to finish that sentence, and leaves it as it is.

 

“Thank you for finding my foolish sibling,” Green says with a slight quirk to his lips; a sad smile. “He always gets into all sorts of trouble. I’m surprised Theo sticks around.”

 

“Yeah, well. You know me; I’m a sucker for the most annoying people. Paint and his goody-two-shoes, damsel-in-distress act; you with your sarcasm and sass; and now I have Black over here, a human keen on treating me like an animal,” Theo retorts, forced playfulness attached to lighten the mood as Gold dries his teary face and smiles to himself, brushing hair back from Paint’s freckled face.

 

“Oh, is that so? Serves you right. You ought to be put in your place sometimes, _Teddy_ ,” Green retorts, smiling genuinely now, and Theo shares in a breathless chuckle.

 

“Yeah, thanks for that vote of confidence. I feel real good about that.” He glances down at Black and smiles. “But nah, he’s learned his lesson. He’s a decent guy, once you get to know him. He has a heart after all. Just like you,” Theo adds, returning his gaze to the magical ‘taur. “…Thank you.”

 

“Hey, what are brothers for, right?” Green snorts, waving it aside. “I was just doing my duty.”

 

“Speaking of which…” Theo remarks, looking between the two humans. “You owe these guys some wishes.”

 

“But I already used mine,” Gold murmurs. “I don’t need another.”

 

“And you won’t get one. It’s a single wish per human, pal,” Green tsks reproachfully, wagging a finger. “However…” he nudges Paint with his finger, poking him, and slowly, Paint stirs awake. “Paint gets one. He was on the brink of death, and especially reborn with how much magic that took. So hey, freebie for you, little brother. My treat.”

 

“Hmn?” Paint blinks, coming into full awareness. His eyes nearly bug out of his skull when he realizes the situation; his head in Gold’s lap (and he blushes at that), both of his brothers present, and Theo and Black actually sitting near one another and looking like they don’t mind each other’s presence.

 

His hear spins at it all, but he smiles brightly nonetheless.

 

“Oh! I know what to wish for!” he exclaims, and he grins and tugs Green down, whispering into his ear.

 

“Mhm. Yeah, I can do that,” Green nods. He lifts his head and gestures Black’s way. “And you, greasy human? What do you wish for?”

 

“Hey, I’m not –” Black begins self-consciously, but when he runs a hand through his hair, he sighs. “Uhg, whatever. Look, if you don’t mind, I just want to be a centaur.”

 

Green raises a brow at that, and so does Theo, turning on Black and uttering, “Are you fucking kidding me?”

 

“Nope,” Black shrugs. “Seems awesome. I’d be strong, and I could walk better on three legs with this bum one I have going right now, and then I’d be the same species as you and not feel so bad for likin’ ya, and then, of course, I’d be able to run like you do without being a rider or racer, and I’d be free some all my stupid human duties, like holding a job and paying taxes! That sounds like a pretty sweet deal to me.”

 

Theo can’t help but laugh, and before he knows he’s going to do it, he leans over and tugs Black up for a kiss. “I like you, too, you grumpy son of a bitch.”

 

“Well, let’s get the cheesy romance-fueled transformations over with, then, shall we?” Green says with a roll of his leaf-green eyes, but there is mirth in them as he smiles and raises his hands, horns glowing lightly with an inner fire through the bone as he feels the tingling rush of magic through his veins to his fingertips like sun-warmed sand on a beach, soft and silky and spreading out and encircling everything.

 

Paint and Black lift into the air. They spin, leaving picking up into the small tornadoes, shielding them from view as Gold-ler and Theo stand and gape at the sight. Green smirks and flicks his wrists, and in no time at all, there is a flash of light like the sun blinking, and Theo and Gold cover their eyes just as their companions touch down onto the ground.

 

“Wellp, my work here is done. See you losers later,” Green shrugs, waving goodbye to Theo and Paint. “Try not to disregard my handiwork and fuck up those bodies, all right? – Like, seriously, Paint. If you get fat, I’m turning you back.”

 

“I promise I won’t!” Paint exclaims joyously, stark naked and uncaring as he jumps for joy and stumbles a little on his human legs. “I’m human, I’m human!”

 

Gold blushes a deep burgundy and strips of his camouflage hunting coat, holding it out. “Um… humans wear clothes, remember? To… be modest…”

 

“Oh! Right…” Paint blushes, peering down at himself. “I forgot. Sorry,” and he mutters this as he takes Gold’s offering and figures out how to slide it on, arms through the holes and overlapping the front around himself.“But this is amazing! Now I can be with you, Gold…” he adds sheepishly, and Gold looks back to him and smiles fondly. He steps forward and wraps his arms around Paint, kissing his forehead. “Thank you can. In fact…” he looks over at his brother and lets out a laugh. “You can have Black’s room.”

 

“Fuck. I forgot I’ll be without my bed now. And I liked my bed…” Black sighs, peering down at his black stallion’s legs, clumsily shuffling his feet, keeping his weight off of his ankle… until he touches it down and realizes it doesn’t hurt. “Hey, what do you know! Greeny fixed my ankle, too.”

 

“If he hears you call him that, he might un-fix it,” Theo snorts. “But yes, seems he did. Now you can go running with me right away.”

 

“Sounds like a good plan to me. Race ya back to the cabin?” Black smirks.

 

“You’re on!” Theo accepts the challenge eagerly. “Let’s see if you can keep up, clubfoot.”

 

“Hey! I don’t have clubfeet! Just because I’m not used to these babies yet, doesn’t mean I can’t control them! They’re my legs, after all…” Black argues, and Gold’s thankful for the distraction before the race, because it gives him time to shout at the pair.

 

“Wait! What about us?” Gold calls out to them before they can break into a run. “Paint-ler is still weak. Will you carry him, Theo? And Black, there’s no way I’m hiking it all the way back to the cabin by myself. Let me ride you.”

 

Black lets out a whinny of outrage. “ _Whaaat?_ Fuck off!”

 

Theo, meanwhile, merely sighs and rolls his eyes. “Uhg, _fine._ But only because it’s Paint. But I’m not pet-pony!” He backs up a few steps and offers his hand. “Up you go, Brother.”

 

Paint smiles, thanking Theo quietly, and between Gold and Theo, is able to sit atop Theo’s back. “…This feels weird. Especially because I’m naked except for this coat. Sure you don’t mind?”

 

“I’m going to pretend you’re wearing clothes and that this isn’t awkward, but nah, I don’t mind. Better me than Black. I wouldn’t trust you with him…”

 

“O-oi!” Black stutters as Gold easily climbs up onto his back.

 

“Let’s get a move on, guys. The sun is just about fully down, and I’d rather not find my way in the dark. Let’s go. And whoever wins the race, doesn’t have to make dinner,” Gold encourages.

 

Theo and Black exchange grins, and in no time, they are racing through the woods, and by the time Theo and Paint reach the cabin, Black is panting and conceding defeat, and Gold is helping paint cook while Theo gets Black a glass of water, and already a routine between centaur and human is forming, and it’s a myth brought to life.

 

 

 

[/End.]


End file.
